Drifting Through
by PuddingCup30
Summary: It's a surprise when Mollie shows up again, after being gone for nearly four years. It's an even bigger surprise when she shows up on the Mile. With an unusual past, how will she change life in E Block? R&R please. :
1. Coming Back

**I was a bit nervous about posting this, but I finally decided to let 'er rip. I plan on posting about once a week, maybe more if life allows for some extra writing. :) I'd love to get feedback, whether it be questions, comments, complaints, plot ideas, or anything else you can think of. I hope you enjoy! **

Mollie stumbled, her heels sliding on the wet floor.

"Damn heels." She murmured as she regained her balance, shifting the suitcases in her arms. She stopped at yet another intersection in the hallways of Cold Mountain Prison, looking left and right. She had walked these halls as a child when she visited her father at work, but that had been years ago. There was a trick to remembering where everything was, but what was it?

A voice caught her attention, causing her to turn. It was Hal Moores, the warden of the prison. Smiling she walked towards him. Catching sight of her, he grinned as he greeted her.

"Mollie? Haven't seen you in ages!" Exchanging a lopsided hug, she laughed.

"I've been away from home for a while Mr. Moores." She trailed off, her smile faltering slightly as her thoughts drifted.

"Can I help you with something Mollie?" Hal asked, looking at her with a concerned look on his face.

"Actually, that's why I'm here. I'm planning on being in town for… a while. And I was wondering if there was any work available?" Before he spoke, she quickly added. "Any kind of work, I don't mind." Hal let out a long sigh. There weren't any female positions available at the moment, but he didn't want to say no. She was a family friend and he knew she was a good worker.

"I'm sure we can find something for you to do." He said thoughtfully.

* * *

Paul Edgecomb pulled into the driveway beside his house, still silently cursing Dean. The boy had asked about dinner in front of Percy. Paul had invited the boys over for a good meal, seeing how Dean and Brutal were bachelors and didn't get much good cooking. He had invited Harry as well, but avoided inviting Percy. He didn't want that little jerk at his house; dealing with him on The Mile was enough.

Now, due to Dean, Percy was coming over for dinner that evening as well. Letting out a loud sigh, he got out of his car as his coworkers pulled up the drive. Leaving the door open, Paul went into the house, greeting his wife with a kiss as he hung his coat and hat up.

"Hey boys." She called over his shoulder as the other men appeared in the hallway, stripping off their jackets and hats as well. "Food's almost ready. Paul, you guys may want to go check out the shed, something came for you today." She said, turning back to the stove before they could see her grin.

Looking at each other questionably, they followed Paul out through the back door towards the open shed. A beat-up pickup truck was pulled into the building, the hood open and a figure leaning over the engine. At first, Paul assumed a man was working on a truck in his shed, but the jeans looked familiar. Two oily handprints adorned the back pockets, obnoxiously drawing attention to the wearer's backside. Paul chuckled as he approached.

"Say it ain't so, Mollie." He said loudly as they came beside the truck. "She finally died?" The figure leaned back from the truck, smiling up at Paul.

"Hey Dad." A shocked sound came from behind Paul, while a slight whistle sounded from his other side. Mollie Edgecomb smiled at her father as she wiped her oily hands on the tail of the old shirt she was wearing.

"This old beast? She'll outlive us all, you'll see. Just a hiccup is all. Broke down about half a mile from here." He laughed as he pulled her into a hug. He hadn't seen his daughter since she got married and moved to the coast nearly four years ago. As she let go, she caught sight of the other men.

"Harry? Brutal?" she asked excitedly, flinging herself at them. Mollie remembered playing cards with them during lunch hour countless times when she was younger. Another time, her mother was out of town visiting her sister, so her father had to take her to the prison. She was never allowed on The Mile, but she had stood at the office door, chattering to whoever was working the desk. Catching them each in a hug, they laughed.

"Haven't changed a bit, have you Mollie?" Brutal asked. Holding her hands out and looking at herself innocently, she smiled.

"What's there to change Brute?" They continued to laugh, Percy and Dean standing off to the side. "And you two are?" she finally asked, turning to them and flashing a dazzling smile. Dean was about to speak when Percy cut him off.

"Percy Wetmore." He said, a cocky tone slightly touching his voice. He reached out a hand, shaking hers with a smug grin on his face. She looked at him for a moment, a small "I see" slipping from her lips before turning to Dean.

"Dean Stanton, ma'am." He said quietly, nodding as he shook her hand.

"Dinner's ready!" Jan called through the kitchen window, the smell of fried chicken filling the air.

"Let's talk inside, I'm starved." Brutal said, edging towards the house. Laughing, Mollie looped her arm around his and Paul's, dragging them toward the house.

Things were fairly quiet in the dining room until everybody settled down at the table.

"So where's that husband of yours?" Paul asked, spooning green beans onto his plate before passing the dish around to Harry. Mollie's cheeks were tinted with pink and she mumbled something about him being back home. He looked at Jan, his brows pulled together in confusion. She shrugged slightly, her eyes telling him not to push the question any further with company around.

"So how long are you in town sweetheart?" Brutal asked through a mouthful of chicken.

"Oh, you know, a little while." She answered vaguely, her eyes never leaving her plate. Now Paul knew something wasn't right. He had raised his daughter up right and respectful, but she was known to be chatty, especially with the men he worked with on E Block.

"How are those daughters of yours Harry?" she asked, possibly sensing the change in atmosphere around the table. And so the conversation flowed. With a little help from Mollie, the dinner time talk was focused on the men and their families instead of her.

* * *

After Brutal, Harry, Dean, and Percy left, Mollie jumped up to help her mother with the dishes. She knew the questions would start soon. "_3…2…1…_" she counted down in her head as she filled the sink with water.

"So what's goin' on Mollie?" her father asked, still sitting at the table.

"Hmmm?" she mumbled, pulling a dishtowel out of the cabinet beneath the sink.

"Why ain't that husband here with you?" She turned the water off, biting her lip. She had to tell them sometime. Now was as good a time as any.

"Vince and I aren't married anymore." Mollie never turned to see their reactions. Before they could ask, she spoke again. "I found him in bed with another woman. He had me sign divorce papers the next day." She decided to leave out that the woman she caught him with was there, sitting in his lap as she signed them. She focused on the dishes. It had happened nearly three years ago and it still stung when she said it.

"Oh honey…" her mother came over, wrapping her arms around her and running her hand over her hair.

"You were married for almost four years and that…" Paul seemed unable to think of a word horrible enough to call her ex-husband.

"We had only been married eight months when he did it."

"Eight months?" he sputtered. "Then where have you been?" Where had she been? All over it seemed. She had been from coast to coast, from San Francisco to a little town in Maine and nearly everywhere in between. A 'classy drifter' was what her friends had called her. She had enjoyed being out west, even lucking into a job working with some friendly cattle ranchers.

The only reason she had left was sudden feeling of homesickness. Her plan was a quick visit, then back to drifting. Hopefully, she could make it back to the ranch and get her job back. When she saw the sign greeting her across her hometown's city line, that plan had changed. Something felt right. After the dishes were done, Mollie excused herself, heading upstairs to her old room to go to sleep.

* * *

"Paul, I've got some good news." Warden Moores said, strolling through the Green Mile's door. Paul pulled his thoughts away from his daughter as Hal came and sat on the edge of the desk.

"Finally got you a secretary to organize all those files in your office." This caught not only Paul's attention, but Brutal, Percy, and another guard's attention. He was a floater, as they called them on the Mile; a temporary, just being assigned for a shift or two at a time.

"Really? That sounds right fine to me." Paul said, happy to pass on the long overdue job to somebody else.

"After they finish, I figure they could do some more work on the Mile as well." Hal added, tapping his knuckles against the desk. "Nothing serious, mind you. Mainly paperwork and desk duty. It'd give you guys a little more time between late shifts though." Paul looked at Brutal, who seemed to like the idea.

"So where's the boy who'll be workin'?" Percy asked, tapping his billie club against his hand.

"Warden Moores?" A feminine voice called through the office. All but the Warden jumped, the sound startling them. Mollie appeared in the doorway wearing the Green Mile navy uniform. The only difference was that instead of slacks and work shoes, she wore a skirt and short pumps. Percy was the only one to let his jaw drop, but the other guards were darn close.

"Meet your newest coworker, Mollie Edgecomb."


	2. New Job, Old News, and New Thoughts?

**Hey guys! Sorry I was longer than a week on this update; I flew down to Florida with my parents and ran in the Walt Disney World Half Marathon on Saturday! I left my computer at home. Then, I moved back into my dorm room yesterday. But I'm back! :) Thanks for the reviews, it made me super happy to see people were still on the lookout for GM stories. Hope you guys like this new chapter, and don't be afraid to leave a review with questions, comments, criticisms, or plot ideas! :)**

"Absolutely not!" Paul said, barely able to contain the scream he wanted to let out. They had made it back to the Warden's office by then. "My daughter is not working on the Mile!" Hal was his friend, but he didn't trust his judgment on this one.

"Paul, I told you, she won't be anywhere near the inmates in the beginning."

"I don't care Hal. She has no business being there." The Warden looked at Paul, giving him time to calm down a bit.

"Paul, most of her work will be in the office. You let her in the office when she was no higher than your hip." He let this sink in before he spoke again. "Let her do your filing at least. You have enough papers stacked up to give her a week or two of work. After that, I'll transfer her out if you want." Paul bit his tongue.

Hal had been right about her being in the office when she was younger, but she was a visitor and had never placed a foot on the faded lime linoleum of the Mile. Even though he hated it, he agreed to let her stay until the filing was done. Then they would talk.

Mollie looked up from a stack of papers as her father walked through the door of the office. He still looked as furious as when he had left with the Warden. Looking back down at the papers quickly, she noticed that he stopped in front of the desk. Swallowing slightly, she inclined her head and met his irritated gaze.

"You're staying for now." She made the mistake of letting a small smile cross her lips. "But you will do what I say when I say it. You will not set a foot out on the Mile under any circumstances unless I give the order. Understood?"

"Yes sir." He faltered for a moment when she called him sir. Never in her life had she called him anything other than Dad, Daddy, or Father. She noticed his confusion and looked confused herself. "Should I call you something else?" He felt his anger ebbing away slightly.

"Call me what you want Mollie. Just follow the rules and stay out of trouble. You could get in some serious hurtin' if you don't do as you're told." With that, he walked out of the office and sat at the desk with Brutal. Percy and the other guard had taken Bitterbuck out to the exercise yard, which left them with enough privacy for Paul to explain things. Brutal seemed less shocked by the news that she was staying, but he had the protective edge to his voice when he spoke.

"She ain't comin' out on the Mile, is she? Bitterbuck and Del are nice enough when it comes to inmates, but still…" Paul quickly shook his head.

"Her ass is stayin' in that office filing papers until I say otherwise." Brutal was about to answer when the old Indian appeared through the doorway being flanked by Percy and the other guard.

* * *

Mollie settled into life on the Mile fairly quickly. Everything had a routine and, for the most part, things were comfortably boring. The inmates that were being held at the moment were well-behaved, so no outbursts ever caused any excitement. One day, without thinking, Mollie walked out on the Mile towards the desk. One of the papers she was filing was horribly smudged and she couldn't read the top half of the page. Her father and Brutal were on lunch, which left Harry and Dean at the desk playing cribbage.

"Excuse me boys, I was wondering if you could help me out…" she trailed off when their eyes widened. Biting her lip, she realized she had broken the only rule Paul had laid down for her. Harry's eyes lit up slightly though.

"I'll keep a secret if you can." He said, winking at her. Grinning in relief, she was cut off again.

"Who dat Boss Harry?" One of the inmates had a tiny mirror in his hand, angling it so he could see down the Mile through the bars of his cell.

"Del, mind your busine—." Mollie laid her hand on his arm to quiet him. Tentatively, she walked down the corridor towards the cell. Her dad would kill her if he knew what she was doing, but she couldn't help it; she was curious. The inmate was older, his nearly bald head shining from the lights overhead. His eyes lit up when he saw her.

"What a belle mademoiselle doin' in a place like dis?" His Cajun French accent filled the air as he spoke, making her smile. "Eduard Delacroix," he said, babbling on in French as he extended a hand through the bars. She hesitated a moment before reaching out and shaking his hand.

"Mollie Edgecomb." She said, a soft smile gracing her lips. Delacroix smiled back at her, releasing her hand after a moment.

"You Boss Edgecomb's daughter?"

"The one and only…" She trailed off when the sounds of her father and Brutal returning from lunch could be heard. With a quick "Nice to meet you" to him, she scurried back down the Mile and sat down at the desk as they walked through the door.

* * *

When Mollie came onto the Mile a week or so later, the first cell was empty. Bitterbuck's execution had been carried out last night, leaving a feeling of emptiness wafting in the air. According to her father, everything went according to plan; "Nice n' smooth" had been his exact words. With a sigh, she leaned against the doorframe of the office and stared at the cell.

She hadn't had the chance to get to know the Cherokee Indian; their introduction had been as brief as the one between her and Del. Even though he was usually quiet, just snoozing away in his cell, his presence had made a difference somehow. Shaking her head, Mollie sat down at the desk, sweat already beginning to bead on her forehead in the ever-present heat.

"Hey Mol'." It was Brutal. He was here earlier than usual.

"Hey Brute. Havin' a good morning?"

"Yeah, it's been pretty good. Heard an interesting piece of news on my way in." By now, she was filing papers, spreading out file folders on the desk as she sorted through things.

"And what might that be?" Brutal seemed to regret bringing it up, making Mollie even more curious. "Brutal, what did you hear?" He was avoiding her eyes, slightly biting his lip. That was so unlike Brutal, it caused Mollie to stop working and stare.

"Word is you aren't married anymore." She just waited, expecting something more interesting.

"That's it?"

"Well…yeah." She started laughing, turning back to the papers she was supposed to file.

"I would hope people would catch on eventually; after all, I've been introducing myself as Mollie EDGECOMB. I assure you, my ex-husband's name was not Edgecomb." He relaxed slightly and continued through the office and out onto the Mile.

_Word is finally out that I'm single_, Mollie thought a few hours later as she headed outside for lunch. She had managed to keep things silent for nearly a month, but it had finally come out. Not that she really minded. She wasn't looking, regardless of being married or not. Ever since Vince, she didn't feel much up to trusting a man with her heart. Several had tried to win her over, but she was guarded. For a long time, men had become nothing more than acquaintances, coworkers, and occasionally, friends.

As she sat in the shade of an oak tree just outside the prison's fences, she caught herself thinking of her past. The closest she had come to anything resembling a relationship since Vince was with a farmer's son out in Iowa. He was a sweet boy, though a bit backwards when they first met. Mollie had arrived just before the harvest and helped his mother feed all the workers that were temporarily housed and hired. When Mollie told him she was moving on to another town to find more work, he asked if she wanted him to come with her. At the time, she had considered it. Now, she grinned and couldn't keep from laughing. The poor boy wouldn't have made it; he was spoiled by his Momma's home cooking.

Mollie continued chuckling at her thoughts as she came back to the office after lunch. As she settled down at the desk, yet another stack of files was waiting for her. Before she could even read the title of the first one, Harry leaned in the doorway.

"Rumor has it that Percy's askin' you out on a date soon." He said quickly, disappearing back on the Mile before she could ask him any questions. With a sigh, she flipped through the papers, trying to push the thought out of her mind. Percy didn't seem all that bad. He was arrogant and a bit dull, but otherwise harmless. The other guards told her that he behaved better while she was around, possibly in an effort to impress her.

Sure enough, Percy came strolling into the office about an hour later, spinning that blasted billie club as he did.

"G'afternoon Percy." She said, never bringing her eyes up from the papers.

"Afternoon Mollie." He sat down in the chair opposite of her, irritating her as he bounced the club off the edge of the desk now.

"Can I help you with something?" her voice came out sharper than she had planned, but Percy seemed to have missed it.

"As a matter of fact, there is. Why don't you let me treat you to a drive-in show over in the next county? Friday is supposed to have a pretty interesting movie." Mollie tried to keep from rolling her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to sweat her crack off at some movie with Percy trying to nibble on her neck.

"Sorry Perce, I'm not interested." He seemed taken aback for a few moments.

"You're jokin', aren't you?"

"'Fraid not." He stormed out of the office before she could elaborate further, grumbling something about 'she'll change her mind'.

* * *

Dean smiled at Mollie as he walked through the office after lunch. Ever since she turned down Percy the day before, it seemed like his smile was a little bigger when he saw her. Her hat was on the edge of the desk, her hum filling the air as she shuffled papers around.

"Good afternoon Ms. Mollie." He said, dropping his lunch pail on top of a shelf next to the others.

"Good afternoon Dean." She looked up, flashing her usual dazzling smile. "Please, just call me Mollie. Ms. is just too formal for me." She laughed out as she continued working. Dean passed through the office, heading to the desk as Brutal was sitting down. Checking his watch, Brutal nodded towards the end of the block.

"Better get the cell ready, inmate'll be here in ten minutes or so." After a few minutes, Brutal got up from the desk, walking towards the water closet. With a quick tap, he spoke.

"Paul, everything all right?" He heard an irritated "Gimmie a minute", followed by a few pained grunts and something about razor blades. Mollie had come out of the office, looking at the bathroom door.

"We've told him to go to the doctor." She said quietly, shaking her head as she handed the next inmate's file to Brutal. Paul appeared a few seconds later, his sweaty face looking exhausted. That bladder infection was really working on him hard.

"Back in that office." He breathed out, watching his daughter huff slightly before striding off the Mile.

All remained silent until Percy came in, yelling "Dead man! Dead man walking!" over and over. He was grating on Mollie's last nerve when Paul's voice cut him off. Once things quieted down again, Mollie focused on her paperwork, only vaguely aware of a Cajun laugh coming from the Mile. Her head snapped up as she heard a sharp cracking sound followed by howls of pain.

Hurrying out on the Mile, Mollie didn't even think about what her father would say. Del was collapsed on the floor, leaning against the bars of his cell. Percy stalked past without a backward glance as she made her way towards the cell.

"Oh Dale, what happened?" she asked, crouching down to be eye-to-eye with the prisoner.

"He smashed up my fingers." he mumbled, tears running down his pain-filled face. _Damn Percy._

"Mollie, get off the Mile!" Paul raised his voice at her, but she ignored him. They were checking in a new inmate and wouldn't be able to look at Del for at least a few minutes.

"Let me see 'em." She said, gently pulling his battered hand through the bars. Sure enough, the fingers were broken, pointing out at weird angles. "Oh dear, you're going to have to go to the infirmary. They'll get you fixed up just fine though, no need to worry." She offered him a sweet smile as he pulled his hand back into his cell.

"Thank you Ms. Edgecomb." He said, his voice watery but sincere.

"You're welcome Del."

**So, the possible romantic pairing becomes a bit more apparent, though I might throw a wrench in the plans. Who knows? Lol. Hope you guys liked it!**


	3. A Place to Call Home

**So, this chapter is a little shorter than the rest; I wanted to update and where I stopped seemed like the perfect place to do so. I actually found a couple of paragraphs that were supposed to go in the last chapter, but somehow got left out (I still can't figure out how that happened! Lol) I ended up working them in here and I have to say, I think I like it better this way. Also, this chapter has alot more 'new' writing in it. I actually have a large portion of this fic already written, it's just a matter of filling in holes, editing, etc. I started filling in a hole and went a little crazy. Haha. Anyways, thanks for the reviews! As always, feel free to leave a review with question, comments, complaints or chapter ideas!**

Mollie had finished up all of the old filing, the office looking tidier than it ever had. As soon as she told her dad the news, he went out the door towards the main prison building. She sat at the desk nervously, waiting for her father or the Warden to return and tell her what to do. They were probably in the Warden's office right now, discussing what should be done with her.

Finally, after half an hour of stabbing the desk with a letter opener, Paul returned. His face was somewhere between uncertainty and defeat.

"You're staying on the Mile." He said simply. Letting out a relieved sigh, she leaned out the door and gave the boys a thumbs up after her father had passed through it. They all fought to suppress their grins until Paul's back was turned, then a silent celebration took place; they weren't afraid to admit they wanted her to stay on E Block.

* * *

"It's perfect." Mollie murmured, looking at the shabby, aged house. After finding out that she would be on the Mile for more than a couple of weeks, Paul had offered her the old cabin in the back corner of his property. Though none of them wanted to admit it, it was challenging having to share the house again.

"It'll need fixin' up, of course. I know you're handy, but I arranged for some help." Wrapping her arms around him, she gave him a squeeze.

"Thanks Dad." Before he could answer, the sound of a car horn pierced the air. Brutal and Dean pulled up and parked in the yard as if they were cued. Stepping out, they were in worn work clothes, grinning as they walked towards Paul and Mollie.

"Heard a girl needed some help around the house." Brutal said, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she hugged him.

"Thank you so much for coming guys, I can't tell you how much this will help." She gushed as she gave Dean a tentative hug as well.

"So what needs fixed?" He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as they strolled towards the house.

"A better question might be what doesn't need fixed?" She laughed out as they stepped inside.

* * *

After nearly an entire weekend of working, the house was livable. Brutal, Dean, Harry and Paul had put in quite a bit of time and Mollie had worked non-stop it seemed. It still had work to be done, such as painting the walls, but it was fixed up enough for the time being.

Sitting on the wood floor of the living room, she gazed out the window at the Sunday sunset. Letting her eyes slide shut, she smiled. It had been a long time since she had a place to call her own. To call home. The sun slowly slid below the tree line and Mollie was startled to hear a knock at her door. Grabbing the 12-gauge leaning against the wall and checking that it was loaded, she opened the door. Dean's grin faltered slightly seeing her armed.

"Umm, hi." He said, still eyeing the shotgun in her hands. Laughing, she set it against the wall again.

"Hey."

"You always answer the door with a 12-gauge?"

"A trick I learned on the road. When word gets out that a woman's alone, things can get dangerous. I never travel without it." His eyes widened slightly before he spoke.

"I just got off and came over to see if you needed anymore help with anything."

"Nah, I think she's good for now." She replied, looking back in the house.

"I'll do a little vanity work when I have the time, but it's nothing that needs done now." They stood in silence for a moment, the crickets chirping softly. "Care to sit and shoot the breeze for a while?" she asked, padding out onto the porch and settling on the swing.

"It'd be a pleasure." He walked over and sat beside her, setting his hat beside him. Another small silence settled between them before he spoke. "So why did you come back? From what I've heard, you left back when you were eighteen with a husband." Rubbing the armrest, Mollie felt the whorls and grain of the wood against her fingertips, rough ridges pressing against her skin.

"I still don't know why I did." She said simply, staring out into the darkness.

"Well, what were you doing before you came back?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were digging for gossip." She laughed out, turning to grin at him. He laughed too, his crooked smile getting caught in the moonlight.

"Can't help it I'm curious about a coworker." He looked at her expectantly, waiting. Scratching her nose, she sighed.

"I found my husband with another woman, so we got divorced. I've been roaming the country ever since." She didn't feel like going into details; short and sour seemed appropriate at the moment. With her jaw clenched rigidly, she stared at the moon.

"What an ass…" Dean said quietly. She could feel his eyes on her face, but she kept looking towards the sky.

"You don't have to tell me twice." They swung in silence, the chains groaning and squeaking as they did.

"I better get going." He said, rising to his feet and stepping away before it could smack him in the back of the legs.

"Hope I didn't scare you off with my sourpuss attitude." Mollie said, rising quickly to her feet as well.

"Nah," He answered, chuckling at her description. "I've got to get home and scrape together some dinner. Nice talking to you Mollie. Have a good night."

* * *

The office was stifling. The air wasn't moving and already it felt more than a hundred degrees in there. Although they were supposed to keep their entire uniform on, Mollie shrugged out of her jacket, unbuttoning the first few buttons of her blouse in a futile attempt to get a breeze against her skin. The cotton fabric was sticking to her, making things feel even hotter. Wiping her hand over her forehead, she leaned back in her chair, begging for a draft.

"A little warm?" Brutal asked, laughing as he stepped into the office. He and Percy were working on cleaning up Ol' Sparky, the electric chair, so his jacket was off and his sleeves were rolled up.

"Feel like I'm in a damn oven." She muttered as she kicked her feet out of her heels. "At this rate, I'll be naked by the end of the day." He laughed, digging in a cabinet for something.

"I'm sure Dean and Percy wouldn't mind that." Mollie's cheeks went pink, though not from the heat. Laughing uneasily, she pretended to work on the files more. What made her blush wasn't the fact that the boys might want to see her. It was the thoughts that had crossed her mind when he said that. She was slowly becoming aware that she was becoming fatally attached to her fellow guard.

It frustrated her; she didn't want to have that kind of attachment to any man, at least not now. Vincent had ruined that for her and, until now, nothing had changed that. Mollie kept her head down as Dean passed through the office in an attempt to hide her blazing cheeks. Working on The Mile just got more complicated.


	4. An Unexpected Visitor

**So, here's the next update. A big thank you to all my reviewers, you guys rock! I'm going to put a few side notes at the end, so I guess there's nothing left to say here...so...Happy reading! Lol**

Dean stared down the Mile, twiddling his thumbs as he thought.

_What man in his right mind would cheat on a woman like Mollie?_ He was still rolling that question around his mind, unable to come up with an answer. Lately, he had been noticing that she was acting a little differently, her cheeks constantly blazing red. She blamed it on the heat, but he had a feeling that wasn't the case. He wasn't sure if it was his own hopes, but he thought he might be causing her to blush. Grinning, he shifted in his chair.

_But how can I figure it out? _Dean was brought out of his thoughts when Mollie walked in. He gave her a lopsided grin as she picked up the clipboard off the desk. She smiled back as she turned and headed down the Mile.

* * *

Somehow, Mollie kept the blush off her cheeks until after she turned away from the desk. It was like a curse; ever since the comment Brutal made, she could barely manage to keep her emotions under control. This led to an embarrassing blush on her face every time she was near Dean it seemed.

Her heels clicked against the lime colored floor as she began doing cell checks. Her father had finally given in and was letting her out onto the Mile to check up on the inmates sometimes. Strolling down the middle of the corridor, she stopped in front of Del's cell.

"Good afternoon Del, how are you?" The Cajun rolled over on his bed and smiled at her.

"G'afternoon mademoiselle. I doin' good, can' complain too much. How are you?" Mollie grinned and told him about her house as she scribbled a few notes on the clipboard.

"You go' a house?" Del asked excitedly.

"Yup, that's right." He smiled before wagging a warning finger at her.

"You be careful livin' all by' yo'self, Ms. Edgecomb. Bad dings happen to lonely, belle femmes." She froze in shock for a second. Del was the first person to actually voice concern over her living by herself. A convicted criminal seemed genuinely concerned about her well-being.

"Thanks Del." She said softly, walking further up the Mile. The newest inmate was in the very last cell and Mollie hadn't had the chance to introduce herself.

The man, John Coffey, was a humongous specimen; he dwarfed Brutal by a foot or so. He was a black man and simple-minded according to the others, but what she found most intriguing about John were his scars. He must have gotten them during childhood; Mollie couldn't see any man having the guts or the nerve to give them to bear-sized man.

Stopping in front of his cell, she saw him lying on his side on his cot. He was facing the wall at the moment.

"John Coffey?" she asked tentatively. He rolled over and sat up, letting his hands rest in his lap. Looking at her with curious eyes, he spoke.

"Yes ma'am?" His voice was low and gravelly, yet it held a childlike tone to it.

"I haven't been introduced to you yet. My name is Mollie Edgecomb and I work here on the Mile." She swallowed slightly as she waited for his answer. The other guards had said he was nice enough, but he was liable to snap sooner or later.

"You that nice lady that helped Del." He gave her a toothy smile, which she returned. Mollie didn't know why, but she couldn't help it. She had read through his record; he was in E Block for a hideous reason. She couldn't put her finger on it though; something about him didn't match up with the file.

"I just wanted to let you know who I am in case you needed me. Have a good day John." After jotting down a few notes, she headed back down the corridor back to the desk. Mollie hadn't noticed Paul and Brutal standing behind Dean watching her.

"Have a pleasant chat?" Paul asked, his voice a little stiff.

"I was just introducing myself."

"And with Del? I know he knows you." Dropping the clipboard on the desk, she put her hands on her hips.

"Is it so wrong for me to make simple conversation with them?" Paul shook his head. His daughter had always had a bit of a stubborn streak in her.

"Don't get too comfortable with them. Remember, they've been convicted of rape, murder, and such. They're criminals." Letting out a loud sigh, she strode to the office, her father hot on her heels. After they were inside the small office, they shut the door.

"Bit of a spitfire, ain't she?" Percy asked, who had come in from his lunch break just in time to catch the last bit. Brutal shot a look at Percy.

"Don't be getting' any ideas Percy." He put on a face of mock innocence, pulling out his comb to slick his hair back as he looked in the mirror.

"What kind of ideas would you be talking about Brutal?" Dean saw Brutal clench his fist before he spoke.

"We've all seen the way you look at her. Keep your hands to yourself or I'll—"

"Or what?" He asked, whirling around to stare at Brutal, his eyes glittering maliciously. "What'll you do? I'll have you fired so fast your head'll spin." There was a silent glaring match between the two. Dean felt himself hating Percy even more than usual. The tension was broke when the office door opened again, Paul coming out to join them.

"There a problem boys?" All of them shook their heads and got back to work.

* * *

Mollie sat at the desk with Brutal, reading a dog-eared copy of _The Jungle_ as he scribbled in E Block's log book. She was lost in the terrifying world of Chicago's meat packing business when she heard Brutal chuckling. Turning, she quirked an eyebrow in question. He pointed with his pen to a spot midway down the Mile.

A tiny, gray mouse was sitting on its haunches watching them with black oil drop eyes. When Brutal stood, the mouse retreated a few steps, but it still remained out in the open watching them. Leaning in the office, Brutal called through to the back room where Paul and Dean were.

"Paul! You guys better come see this." He and Dean came through quickly, stopping by the desk. The Mile was empty.

"Where'd he go?" Brutal asked Mollie as she shushed him. Sure enough, the little mouse came trotting down the Mile from the restraint room moments later. All of them were surprised when it continued all the way until it was only a few feet away from the edge of the desk.

"He's a brave little guy, you gotta give him that." She said softly as they stared at their guest.

"Kind of reminds me of that one mouse. What's his name? Steam Boat Willy?" Brutal asked, settling down in his seat as he watched. The others chuckled softly as the little mouse seemed to survey them over the edge of the desk. Almost as if it were sizing them up as enemies or friends. Breaking off the edge of a cracker, Brutal prepared to toss it to the mouse when Dean stopped him.

"Brutal, no! We'll be hip deep in mice around here!" Mollie rolled her eyes as the men bickered for a moment before the cracker was thrown. The mouse ate it happily before scurrying off to the restraint room at the end of the hall. They were silent before Dean spoke again.

"He's in the damn restraint room. You know he's in there, chewing out the padding and makin' himself a little nest." They all looked at Paul expectantly before he sighed and nodded.

"Alright, let's go get the damn mouse."

As hard as she tried, Mollie couldn't hide her grin as she watched the boys pull everything out of the restraint room. They looked silly, three grown men and a mop trying to track down a little field mouse.

Since work was slow these days, she perched herself on the edge of the desk and watched their progress. Like them, she shed her jacket and hat as she kept her eyes open for the critter. As the last item was slid out, Mollie headed up the Mile and joined them at the doorway.

The room was completely empty. No mouse.

"You let him get past." Her father accused Dean, who got an amusing look of insult on his face.

"I most certainly did not."

"Well then where's the mouse?" He shrugged.

"I don't know." Mollie let one giggle slip out, which lead to a torrent of others.

"Three grown men…outsmarted by a mouse!" she laughed out with glee. Truthfully, she was glad they hadn't found the mouse. They probably would have squashed him, which seemed unnecessary.

"Hey, all this commotion probably scared him off anyway. We won't be seeing him again." Dean said, already turning to decide what was going back into the room first.

"Yeah…" Paul murmured, looking around the padded cell. "That's the last we saw of him." Mollie could tell he didn't really believe that.

**Alright, I just wanted to bring a few things into light about this chapter. First of all, I double checked and _The Jungle_ was in print at this time. I had to read it a few years ago for a history class and it was a fairly interesting read about, yes, the Chicago meat packing business. The other options were _Gone With the Wind _(which I nixed due to it being romance and I've never read it) and _The Grapes of Wrath_ (which I nixed since I've never read it, though it sounds pretty good). Anyway, just wanted to clarify a bit about that.**

**Also, I don't know if any of you have read _The Green Mile_, but if you have, you should have recognized the phrase "black oil drop eyes". Steven King used that description all the time when he talked about the little mousey. :) Oh, and the little part about Steam Boat Willy is actually in the book too. That is actually what Brutal (and the other guards too, I think) call him until Dale gives him the name Mr. Jangles. So, just a bit of the book being slid into a movie fan fic. **

**Hope you enjoyed this update, drop me a line with questions, comments, complaints, or plot ideas if you want!**


	5. I Shouldn't Have Done That

**So...*hides behind bed and waves white flag*...I'm sorry for slightly abandoning this story; things came up and took a higher priority than this (sadly). This chapter is a shorter than the others, but it's a nice little update to give you a taste. Hope you guys aren't too mad at me for being bad. :( Just wanted to thank you guys for the reviews and alerts, it's uber kind of you! Hope you enjoy, and as always, feel free to leave questions, comments, complaints, or chapter ideas in a review for me!**

Somehow, Dean ended up alone with her.

She had invited her parents, Harry, Brutal, and himself over to her house for dinner, saying it was time she cooked for the group for a change. Plus, she wanted to show everybody how good the house looked since it was finished.

The food was excellent and the company was even better. But for some reason, everybody had needed to leave early. Paul had to take Jan back to the house before work, Harry needed to get some things done around his house, and Brutal had to get back to The Mile for the evening shift. That left Dean and Mollie, listening to the radio and sipping sweet tea.

Pulling herself to her feet, she started to pick up the dishes and carry them to the kitchen. Quickly, he picked up the remainder of the dishes and followed her, placing them in the sink. Stepping back, he couldn't resist temptation. Placing his hand on her waist, he leaned close to her ear.

"Anything I can do?"

"No, I think I got everything under control." She murmured, keeping her eyes on the sink. A tint of pink was barely visible on her cheeks.

_Am I making her nervous? _He slightly enjoyed the idea of him making her blush like that. Turning his head, he kissed her cheek softly. Nothing more than a brush of his lips, yet he grinned when her entire cheek grew warm under his lips.

She had stopped washing the dishes, her hands clenching the dish towel. He was toeing the line and he knew it. Any further and it was likely she would beat him with the nearest weapon, which looked to be that dish towel. Smirking at the idea as he leaned back, he was caught off guard as she turned to face him.

Biting her lip, she seemed conflicted for a moment. A million thoughts must have run across her mind, but only one showed in her eyes.

Fear.

Slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Dean's. She was timid; he could feel her hands shaking as he pressed against her. "Trust me." He breathed softly, brushing his fingertips over her cheek. Slowly, he felt the tension leave her body, her arms wrapping around his neck, one of her hands running through his hair. And as quickly as Dean lost himself in that kiss, Mollie ended it.

"I shouldn't have done that." She murmured, her cheeks shining brighter than ever. She turned to the sink and began scrubbing dishes again, trying to hide her embarrassment and disappointment in herself. Succumbing to temptation like that will do nothing more than screw her over again, she thought.

"Why not?" Dean asked, his voice sounding like someone had shot his puppy. Biting her lip, she didn't turn to face him.

"I don't need a relationship like that now." She said quietly. He let out a frustrated sigh, thinking hard about what he wanted to say.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked, putting his hand on her forearm to make her stop working. "Every man is not going to be like that ass of a husband you had." Turning her to face him, he looked her in the eyes. "If I was with you, I would only be with you. Nobody on the side." She didn't respond, but she wouldn't look him in the eye.

Letting go of her arm, he headed towards the front door. _Stupid_, he thought to himself. _I was stupid to say that._ Silently cursing himself, he didn't hear her footsteps as she followed him out onto the porch.

"Dean." She said, stopping in the door. He turned to her, hiding the hope he was feeling. "I…" she struggled to say what she wanted. "Thank you." She murmured, looking down as she smoothed a wrinkle on her apron.

* * *

The next day at work, her face turned pink when she saw him, but he acted normal around her. A "Good morning Mollie" and a nod of his head as she walked into the office. It took a little while, but she settled down and fell into the rhythm of the Mile.

The monotony of the work gave her nerves a rest, especially when Dean, Paul and Brutal left for lunch; she wasn't thrilled to be left with Percy though. At least Harry and a floater were at the duty desk out on the Mile. From her seat in the office, she could hear Percy whistling a tune.

_Probably standing in front of the mirror combing that blasted hair of his_, she thought. Suddenly, the whistling stopped.

"Well I'll be…" Mollie stopped and looked out the door of the office.

"Give him some room Percy." Harry said. She stood up from the desk to see what was going on. Mollie was unable to hide her grin at the sight of the little gray mouse standing in front of the desk again.

"If it ain't Steamboat Willy." She said with a smirk. Before anybody could react, Percy flung his club at the poor creature, narrowly missing his tiny body. The mouse bolted, scampering down the corridor as Percy stomped after him like a buffoon. Curse words filled the air as he pursued the mouse, the stream of profanity briefly punctuated by Del.

"He's jus' a lil' mouse!" Percy slammed into the restraint room door, struggling to pull his keys out and unlock it.

"He's lost his mind." Mollie remarked softly, standing next to the other guards as they watched the scene before them. "And he ain't finding that mouse."


	6. Wild Bill, Welcome to the Mile

**Sorry for the long wait, life brought this story to a skidding halt for a while. I should actually be studying, but I wanted to get another chapter out (Out of guilt and the fact that I'm fond of this story.) I just want to thank you guys who reviewed or put this fic on story alert; it's nice to see people want to see where this story goes. :) If you guys find any mistakes in here, feel free to PM me about them, I didn't proofread/edit this one as much as usual out of eagerness to post before class. Hope you guys enjoy!**

"Ain't that a sight?" Mollie asked, looking back at her father with a smile on her face.

"He'll fetch it ever' time. Ever' single time." Del said, tossing the spool across his cell. Steamboat Willy, who Del claimed was really called Mr. Jangles, scampered along the linoleum flooring and stopped beside the spool. Sniffing it for a moment, he put his minuscule front paws on the wood and began rolling it across the floor.

"He's a circus mouse." John said, his deep voice rumbling from across the corridor.

"Dat's exactly what he is. He's a circus mouse and he gonna make me rich." Mollie chuckled as she headed back down the Mile, listening to Del go on about Mr. Jangles. She had hoped the little critter would show up again, especially after Percy's mental lapse and psychotic outburst.

Dean, Harry, and Percy were nowhere to be seen, and it seemed Brutal was M.I.A. at the moment too.

_Probably doing laundry or eating lunch_, Mollie thought, dismissing any suspicious thoughts before they could take hold. Heading through the office, she cut through the narrow hallway and headed out into the main prison building.

Before learning about Mr. Jangles, Hal had called and said another box of files had been found and she needed to pick them up and deal with them. She had said "Yes sir, I'll be there soon" like a good worker. Yet in the back of her mind, she was cursing those stupid files. Sighing, she just hoped that the box wasn't _that _big.

* * *

Mollie lugged the box of new files down the narrow hallway towards the office. She could feel sweat running down her back, making her blouse stick to her and causing her jacket to become damp. It still felt hot as hell on the Mile, and the twenty pound box of old papers wasn't helping anything.

Laying the box down, she noticed it was too quiet; normally she could hear somebody milling around at the desk, maybe even a spat over a game of cribbage if Dean and Harry were out there. Shrugging out of her jacket, she opened the office door and froze. Nobody had told her a new inmate was coming today.

The door to the yard was open, Dean leading an inmate flanked by Percy and Harry. Just as she was turning to retreat back into the office in order to avoid being chastised by her father, everything seemed to move twice as fast.

The inmate started hootin' and hollerin', wrapping his shackles around Dean's neck and slinging him around the room. Harry tried to restrain him, only to be pitched over the desk and knocking a set of shelves over in the process. His club fell to the floor a few feet in front of Mollie. Looking up from Harry, her father was aiming his gun at the inmate, who was playing a game of chicken, bobbing and weaving behind a blue-faced Dean.

"Hit him Percy!" Paul screamed, looking at the quivering idiot. Percy was frozen, looking like a deer in a spotlight. He really didn't have the nerve for this line of work.

"Shoot him!" Dean choked out. Without thinking, Mollie picked the club up off the floor and swiftly smashed it hard against the inmates back, clipping his jaw. Both he and Dean fell as Brutal came running in. Grabbing Percy's club, he approached the inmate, delivering the final blow as he sat up, knocking him out cold.

Mollie dropped Harry's baton and fell to her knees, unwrapping the shackles from Dean's neck. Her throat tightened when he didn't move. After pulling him to a seated position, he let out a gasp, finally able to breathe again. She loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, rubbing his chest as she murmured soothingly.

"Come on, just breathe Dean. Just breathe." All he could get out was a breathless

"Didn't see it comin'..."

"We thought he was doped, didn't…didn't we think he was doped?" Harry said, finally pulling himself to his feet, dabbing at a bloody nose. Percy nodded stupidly in agreement.

"You didn't bother to ask?" Paul asked, dripping with sweat and clutching his groin. The inmate must have hit him during all the chaos. When nobody answered, his voice came out in a pained hiss. "That's not a mistake you'll be needin' to make again anytime soon now, is it?"

Brutal made Percy help move the inmate to his cell as Mollie helped Dean to the concrete step to sit down. Pulling out her handkerchief, she dabbed at his bleeding lip before he let his head rest in his hands. The other men were down by the new inmate's cell, so she looped her arm through his.

"Alright?" she whispered softly. He was silent, his eyes shut. She could see bruises already showing up on his neck, a few areas rosy red from being rubbed raw. He had taken a beating from that guy. Tentatively, she brushed her fingertips over the fresh bruises, pulling back when he flinched. Hearing her father give orders to everybody, she quickly scooted away from Dean. She left her hand on his back, patting it in a comforting sort of way.

"Mollie, you can…" Paul trailed off. He looked on the verge of collapsing, sweating bullets and becoming paler by the second. She offered to stay on the Mile with him, but he shook his head. She could tell he wanted to be alone, probably to let out a few yells of pain with some curses weaved in.

"I'll help Brutal with Harry and Dean?" she offered, not wanting to go with Percy.

"Sounds good." He muttered as they led the two injured guards out of E Block.

* * *

"Feeling better?" Mollie asked softly, leaning over the rail of the bed Dean was laying in.

"I've only been here five minutes." He said, managing a grin. "Takes a little longer for aspirin to kick in I'm afraid." He snuck a glance at her, to see her biting her lips and wringing her hands. Finally, the nurse returned with a cloth and a bowl of water. Before she could help Dean however, another guard came walking in.

"Ma'am, we've got a situation down on C Block. Warden wants you down there right now." She looked back at Mollie and Dean guiltily.

"I'm sorry, I'll try to get back as soon—"

"It's fine sweetheart, go do your job." Mollie said kindly, taking the bowl from her hands. "I can take care of him until you get back." With rushed thanks, she followed the guard out. The only sound in the room was a faint sort of sizzling, probably from something dead frying on the tin roof.

"So you're a nurse too?" Dean asked as she dabbed at the raw places on his neck with the wet cloth.

"When you work with cattle ranchers for a season, you learn a few things." Her knuckles brushed against his jaw, lingering longer than was necessary. "Do things like this happen a lot?" she asked quietly. Dean thought back to all his time in the prison; nothing like this had ever happened on E Block in all his time there.

"Nah, this was a screw-up, that's for sure." He groaned out. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd thought this screw-up would be his last; when he saw Percy balk, he was sure Wharton would strangle him on the spot.

"If Percy wasn't such a puss, it wouldn't have been this bad. He shouldn't have been flanking you; Brutal should have been in his place." Mollie said, her voice laced with irritation. Dean let a smile tug at his lips; even if he was miserable, he still enjoyed knowing that she didn't like Percy.

"You or Brutal would have been my choice." He said hoarsely, causing her to pause. Before she could respond, Brutal poked his head in the infirmary.

"Hey Mol, Paul wants you down on the Mile." Sighing, she laid the wet cloth on Dean's forehead.

"Try to relax. Want you healing up fast so I'm not alone with Percy." Dean chuckled even though it hurt his throat.

"Yeah, can't have that." Smiling, she strode out of the room and followed Brutal back down to E Block.

* * *

"It couldn't be that simple…" Mollie murmured, running her hands over the shackles the inmate had been wearing. According to the others, his name was William Wharton. After the fiasco today, he had already earned the nickname of Wild Bill.

"What d'yah mean?" Paul asked, watching her closely.

"He pretended to be drugged. That's easy to figure out…but…" she grabbed the shackles and walked over to Percy. "Hold out your arms please." She asked.

"You ain't puttin' those on me!" He complained, tucking his hands in his pockets as if to reaffirm his statement. Rolling her eyes, she turned to Paul.

"Mind putting these on me?" He looked at her uncertainly.

"What're gettin' at Mol?"

"Just do it please." She said impatiently. Paul took the shackles from her and slid them over her wrists. Locking them in place, he took a step back.

"Okay, now what?" Mollie looked down at the metal, clinking the chain softly as she thought.

"Come 'ere Dad." She said, jerking her chin slightly. When he came over, she spun him around and slid her hands over his head. She let the chain rest against his neck, keeping the pressure taut yet relaxed enough that he could breathe easily. For a moment, they stood like that silently; all of the guards were curious as to what she was doing.

"There's an extra link." She finally said, lifting her hands and releasing Paul from her clutches.

"No there isn't, all the shackles are the same length." Percy said, obviously proud of his bit of knowledge.

"Go grab another set then." She said as Paul freed her wrists. Sure enough, when Percy returned with another set of shackles, they were one link shorter than Wild Bill's.

"How?" Brutal asked, leaning against the desk. Mollie bit her lip, racking her brain. After a few moments, she snapped her fingers.

"I got it!" Scurrying off into the office, she returned with a manila folder. Flipping it open, she picked up a piece of paper and began skimming the text. "Here." She said, pointing halfway down the page. "Inmate Coffey was escorted in, wearing shackles 2D until entering the cell." The longer set of shackles had a bright, white '2D' adorning one of the cuffs. "Shackles had to be extended by one link to accommodate the prisoner." Shutting the file, she looked at them.

"Wild Bill got an extra link because he had shackles for a man twice his size."

"We've never had a man the size of Coffey come through here, so that's never been an issue." Harry said, his voice caught somewhere between surprise and awe. They all stood in silence for a minute or so, digesting the information.

"From now on, we check shackles before we leave to get prisoners. Understood?" Paul asked, making eye contact with each of them as they nodded. "Enough talking, get back to work."

**Feel free to leave a review with questions, comments, complaints or any ideas you might like to see in here! **

**And just a quick note! As I was writing the scene where Wild Bill nearly strangles Dean, I couldn't help but think of the book again. Did you know that after John's execution, and after Paul leaves the Mile, Dean gets killed? Nursing home Paul is recounting his past and says somthing along the lines of "And after everything we did to protect Dean if our plan with John went wrong, he ended up dying a few months later. He was transferred to another part of the prison (C block maybe?) and was shanked by an inmate." Ummm, Steven King? What are you doing killing off my man? Lol. Needless to say, I will not be shanking Dean in this story. Just a random bit of book fact from a nerd. :)**


	7. Then What Do You Need?

**Hey! How are my lovely readers today? Here's the next chapter, it's not super plotty, but it's _very very_ important to this story. I'm sure you guys will like it! ;) I want to thank all my reviewers for their wonderful feedback and encouragement! YOU GUYS ROCK AND DESERVE PONIES THAT POOP RAINBOWS!...or something along those lines. Lol. Hope you enjoy, and remember: Feel free to leave questions, comments, complaints, or any ideas in a lovely little review! Thanks!**

"You didn't have to drive me home Mollie." Dean said. He ended up staying for his entire shift, even though the nurse in the infirmary said he should go home. His head felt like it was splitting most of the day, but he was just tired and sore now.

He could have drove home by himself, but Mollie wouldn't allow it. She had pulled his truck keys out his hands as soon as they clocked out, insisting she drive him. She kept saying "You're in no condition to be driving." Not that he minded. Getting to see Mollie after hours was a bright note to this god-awful day. She pulled into his driveway before she spoke.

"Just want to make sure you're alright."

"You did a good job of that today already. Knocked the hell out of Wharton." He said, grinning slightly at her. They pulled up beside Dean's house and Mollie walked up to the door with him.

"And what might you be doin' Ms. Edgecomb?" he asked as he opened the front door, unable to keep the smirk off his lips.

"Making sure you have something to eat before I leave. Can't have you going hungry when you're trying to heal." She said, smiling at him as she shrugged out of her jacket and headed to the kitchen. She quickly went to work, pulling things out of cabinets and combining different ingredients.

Leaning against the doorframe, Dean watched her buzzing around the kitchen. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander down to her backside. Without her jacket on, it was easy to see the skirt hugging her curves, showing off her backside wonderfully. She was rocking from side to side, humming something softly.

Walking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She seemed surprised, faltering as she chopped some vegetables, but she didn't object.

"Thank you." He spoke into her neck, resting his head on her shoulder. "I wasn't sure if Paul was going to shoot my head off or not." She chuckled as she dumped the vegetables into a large pot sitting on the stove.

"Anything specific you want with soup?" she asked, pulling out of his embrace and turning to face him. A few, not soup related things crossed his mind, but he just shook his head.

"Nah, I'm not that hungry."

"Let it simmer about twenty minutes then." He looked at the stove, shocked that she had pulled something together so fast.

"So what are we going to do for twenty minutes?" he asked, trying to force his thoughts out of the gutter. It seemed Wild Bill had beat all the sense out of him.

"You, Mr. Stanton, are going to go rest in bed." She said as she started putting things away in cabinets, her voice reminding him of a school teacher mildly chastising a student.

"I don't need bed rest. I'm fine." He complained, even though he knew he did need it.

"Really? Then what do you need?" she asked, buzzing around the kitchen again, hills clicking against the wood floor. Before he could even think, one word flew out of his mouth.

"You." He would have smacked himself if he hadn't taken a beating already. She froze, her hand on a cabinet door.

_Idiot_, he thought. _She's going to kill you. Stupid, stupid, stupid…_ Surprisingly, she didn't react the way he had expected. Instead, she walked up to him, her head tilted in confusion.

"And why would you say that?" she asked. Her cheeks were turning that shade of pink he was becoming so accustomed to seeing.

"Because it's true." He murmured, wrapping his arms around her. She didn't resist as he kissed her. It was soft at first, careful and cautious. As the seconds ticked by, it became more needy, more intense. It wasn't just Dean pressing forward either. She had him pressed against the refrigerator, both of them losing their heads. As her hands finished pulling at the buttons of his shirt, he stopped her.

"Not here." He breathed out as she pushed the button down off his shoulders. "I'm not lovin' you on my kitchen floor." Grabbing her hand, they rushed up stairs, taking a pit stop on the first landing before finally making it to his bedroom.

* * *

Opening her eyes, Mollie saw faint light filtering through the drapes on the window across from the bed. Turning her head, her chin rested on Dean's chest as she looked at his face. He was sound asleep, his face peaceful. The bruises on his neck were worse this morning, black and purple joining the navy that had shown up yesterday.

For a moment, she regretted what she had done last night. She should have walked out when Dean said he wanted her. She knew what would happen if she stayed, yet she had. She had never been this type of girl, dancing between the sheets when she wasn't married. Something was different now. Maybe it was the betrayal she felt over her husband or the loneliness she had dealt with for more than three years. Or maybe it was Dean. She would probably never know.

Absentmindedly, she brushed her fingertips up and down his chest and stomach, watching the sun rise through the window. A few minutes before she planned on getting up, Dean started stirring. When he first woke up, he looked at her like he thought he was dreaming. Grinning, he kissed her temple and let out a content sigh.

"It'd be nice to skip work today." He said, stretching an arm out as he wrapped the other around Mollie's shoulders.

"You could. After what happened yesterday, I'm sure Dad would let you take a couple days off." Before he could answer, there was a knock on the front door. Both of them sat up quickly, looking out the window. "Oh no…" Mollie murmured. Her dad's car was outside.

"You have to answer it!" she let out in a strangled whisper, nearly shoving him out of bed. He pulled a robe off the back of a chair and went downstairs, opening the door. Paul Edgecomb was standing on the porch, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels.

"Morning Dean." He said with a quick nod.

"G'morning Paul." Dean mumbled, trying to mask his guilt.

"How you feelin'?" he asked, motioning towards his neck.

"Oh, you know, it's sore. Nothing serious though…" Dean trailed off. They stood there silently for a few moments, the situation more awkward by the second.

"Dean, is my daughter here?" His stomach clenched. What should he say? Seeing how protective Paul was of Mollie, he might kill him on the spot. Or worse, he might talk to the Warden and get him fired. Losing a job during the Depression just wasn't a journey he wanted to deal with.

"Hi Dad." Mollie said brightly, appearing in the doorway. She was in her uniform, smiling happily. A hair wasn't out of place; she didn't look like she had just awakened from a long night in the sack. "Whatcha doing here?"

"I noticed your truck was still at the prison when I left and heard you rode home with Dean—"

"I gave him a ride home. Didn't want him driving after what happened."

"So how did you get home?" Mollie kept talking, never missing a beat.

"Drove Dean's truck home, of course. I told him I'd pick him up this morning on my way to the Mile. Running a little behind though, as you can see." She rolled her eyes, acting as if his supposed tardiness was annoying her. Dean couldn't help but be impressed. Quick on her feet, she had diffused the situation easily. Paul visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping a few inches.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "I better let you get ready then. I'll see you two at work." With that, he walked back out to his car and drove off. As soon as he turned back out onto the main road, Mollie started laughing.

"Oh my gosh, that was so close!" she said between laughs. Dean found himself grinning at her as she headed towards the kitchen. Following close behind, he was greeted by her backside pointing up in the air.

"It's looks better bare." He said, smirking as she stood back up. With a dramatic eyeroll, she handed him his shirt.

"Needs ironed sweetheart." She said, a smug grin on her face. "Better hurry, otherwise you'll be walking to the Mile."

**Surprisingly, I did not think of the book at all when I wrote this. I know, shocking! Therefore, I don't have a little author's note explaining some sort of craziness. Maybe next chapter? :)**


	8. And Then All Hell Broke Loose

**Whoa, I bet you're surprised I'm here so soon! Lol. Well loves, this is the only story I'm posting at the moment, so I can lavish it with so much attention your teeth'll rot. Lol. Just as an FYI, I tried to blend the script in some, so you might recognize some lines...which I obviously don't own...so don't sue me. :) Thanks for all the love that was given for the last chapter or so! Reviews and alerts and favorites! *oh my!* Haha. Feel free to leave a review of PM with questions, comments, complaints or ideas for this story! If I likes, there's a good chance it'll get put in here! Now, enough rambling; hope you enjoy this new chapter! **

Mollie forced a smile at Del as Brutal led him out the door. It was kind what they were doing for him, it really was. Cooking up the story about Mouseville was helping to ease some of the terror of the Cajun's impending execution. As soon as the door shut, ol' Toot came out of the office, heading down to Del's cell.

"Alright, let's get in at least two clean runs before he gets back." Paul said, following Toot. Dean was already standing by the cell, leaning against the bars as he waited.

"I'm…I'm not part of this, am I?" Mollie asked timidly. Her father's head jerked back to look at her.

"As long as I'm supervisor here, you won't be taking part in any executions." She let out a relieved breath as they started their routine. She watched the process; check for a clean shaven head, surround, and then walk. The trio headed into the office, Toot dropping down to his knees and rambling some bull-hockey prayer laced with profanity.

With Paul occupied with their mock inmate, Dean chanced a glance at Mollie. He met her eyes and grinned at her, which she returned. It had been a few days since she drove him home and they had been passing secret smiles back and forth since then. It almost felt like being back at school, where everybody just grinned at the person they liked.

"Alright Toot, that's enough praying for you." Paul finally said, pulling the old trustee to his feet as he and Dean led him out into the shed with Ol' Sparky in it. Mollie glanced back up the nearly empty Mile before following them. By the time she had ducked through the small door, Toot was strapped into the electric chair.

To her surprise, Percy was out front. Normally, Paul stood there; instead, he had taken Brutal's spot. Harry stood off to the left of the chair, shuffling his feet slightly. Dean was hovering between where the doctor normally stood and the entrance of the screen concealing Van Hey.

Walking out into where the crowd normally sat, Mollie leaned against an old tractor and watched. She was going to ask her Dad why Percy was leading this execution; it was common knowledge that he despised Dale, even if tensions seemed to have eased between the two. She had seen that weasel-like glare cross Percy's eyes when he looked in Dale's cell; a grudge was there, even if nobody else saw it. It was terrible to think it, but she wouldn't put it past Percy to tamper with the execution somehow. There had to be a big reason to let the rookie out into the spotlight.

The first practice went smoothly, Percy never stumbling over his lines or missing anything he was supposed to do. After watching the mock execution once, Mollie headed back onto the Mile, settling down in the desk to browse over the newspaper.

"Hey perty thang, why not come keep Billy the Kid comp'ny down here?" Letting out an irritated sigh, she replied in a bored, almost indifferent voice. "It's seems I can keep good enough company sitting down here." Ever since Whorton's arrival, she had been bombarded with everything from "Hey good lookin'" to "Guess how big I am!"

Wild Bill just didn't get it; even after being strung up in the straight jacket and tossed in the isolation room, he couldn't learn when to keep his mouth shut. He kept bombarding her with questions and suggestions, each grating on her nerves more than the last, until the men started trickling back onto the Mile.

Paul came in with several tin cups of soda, passing them around to everybody as they waited for Del's return. Harry, Dean, and Percy were standing in front of the nearest vacant cell as they chatted about executions. A few chuckles and jokes were thrown in, which seemed twisted to Mollie, but she remained quiet; she'd talk to Dean about that later. Her dad leaned against the desk, watching the window for signs of Brutal and Del, only seeming vaguely aware of the conversation occurring.

"Alright, look alive guys." He said suddenly, the sound of a key scraping the door indicating the return of their inmate. All the cups were placed on the desk as Del walked in. His chest was thrown out and his stride was proud as he entered; the 'meeting' must have gone well.

"Hey Dale, how'd it go?" Mollie asked, unable to hold back her grin at how happy he looked.

"Oh, dey loved Mr. Jangles. Dey be laughin' and smilin' and dey clapped dey han's." he said happily until he came face-to-face with Percy.

"Well that's just aces." Percy said, his voice sounding sarcastic to Mollie. Del's face fell, the proud gleam in his eye evaporating. "We're happy for you old timer!" He started chuckling, never taking his eyes off of Dale. The whole interaction was making her nervous; it felt like Percy had something up his sleeve, just waiting to whip it out and cause chaos.

The small Cajun looked up at Brutal for a moment before laughing as well. Suddenly, Percy lunged at him, acting as if her were coming at him. Caught in a moment of panic, Del stumbled backwards and caught his heel on Brutal's foot. Crashing to the floor, his head smashed against the linoleum, an excruciating _THUMP!_ filling the air.

"Percy, you jerk!" Brutal growled, hooking his arm around Del's and hauling him to his feet.

"Oh come on, you know I's jokin'!" he complained as Brutal steered a disoriented Del down the Mile.

"Percy, you do cell checks." Paul ordered, trying to shift the situation to a more normal pace. After causing Del to trip and fall, he needed Percy out of his hair, even if it was only for a few moments.

"Clipboard please." He called out to Mollie as he lazily strolled further down the Mile. Paul saw her jaw tighten as she laid her pen down.

"Just do it, he'll be gone soon enough." He said quietly, handing her the clipboard. Shooting him a questioning glance, she stood and grabbed the clipboard from him as he and Dean headed towards the office. Walking down the Mile, something caught her eye.

Her jacket had a smear of dirt on it, probably from leaning against the old tractor in the back room. It stood out brilliantly against the navy jacket, annoying her more than it should have. Tucking the clipboard under her arm, she leaned over to bat it off as she continued towards Percy. Not paying attention, she walked a step closer to the cells than she normally would have. Suddenly, all hell broke loose.

* * *

A feminine scream brought Paul and Dean out of the office. Wild Bill had grabbed Mollie through the bars, pulling her tightly against them. Percy stood off to the side, his mouth hanging open in shock. Brutal was trying to herd Del into his cell, who had frozen in terror comparable to that of Percy.

Paul pulled out his gun and pointed it at Wild Bill for the second time in a matter of days, exercising all of his control to not shoot him on the spot for grabbing his daughter.

"Wharton, let her go!" he ordered, threatening him with the revolver. The inmate wasn't paying any attention to Paul however. He had one arm around Mollie's neck while the other had snaked down to her thigh, pulling her skirt up.

"NOW!" Paul screamed. Wharton smiled at him wickedly, whispering in her ear before planting a kiss on her temple, hitching her skirt up even higher as he did. Suddenly, Dean lunged over to the bars, ripping Wild Bill's arm from her thigh and wedging it against one of the bars. He pushed until the joint strained, unable to go any further without damage.

"Ohh, Bossman gettin' mean." He taunted, still holding onto her neck, her gasps shallow as she struggled against his grip.

"I'll break it Wharton." Dean said in a deathly calm voice, pushing slightly to reinforce what he said. "Let her go." Wild Bill grimaced slightly, feeling the effects of his arm getting nearer and nearer to breaking point. Finally, he released Mollie, who stumbled over to Paul, coughing and struggling for a breath. Dean released Wharton's arm as he smiled at him greasily.

"I was just playin'! I wouldn't hurt a hair on her perty little head." He laughed before looking at Percy darkly. "I think he'd put up less of fight anyway." Percy's eyes bugged and he stumbled back against an empty cell's bar. "Yeah Loverboy, why don't you wander a little closer to ol' Bill's bars? Why don't you come in here with Billy the Kid, I'll show you what it's all about. We have ourselves some fun."

By this point, Percy had wet himself, terrified by what Wild Bill was offering. After a quick threat to them all, he ran from the room, Del's laughter and taunts following him.

Paul led Mollie off The Mile and into the office, setting her down in a chair as Brutal, Dean, and Harry followed them in.

"I'm sorry, that was a stupid mistake. I was trying to get dirt off my jacket and wasn't paying attention to how close I was to the cell doors." She said quickly, smoothing back a few loose strands of hair, staring at the worn desk in front of her. Her brow was furrowed and lips were tight, her expression caught somewhere between embarrassment, stressed, and exhaustion.

"It's alright." Paul said, looking at his daughter. She had never been afraid to take responsibility for her mistakes, even if it was embarrassing or put a dent in her pride. "It's happened to everybody at one time or another. I'm just glad that we got you back okay."

"That's right." Brutal echoed softly, the other two nodding.

"Just take it easy for a little bit, get your head on straight. It'll be alright." Paul put a comforting hand on her shoulder before walking back out on the Mile, Brutal and Harry a few steps behind him.

Dean lingered in the doorway for a few moments before coming over beside her. Mollie's gaze stubbornly remained on the desk in front of her. Kneeling down beside her, he gently grabbed her chin and made her look at him.

"It's alright, everybody makes mistakes on the Mile." He said softly. "You came out better than I did, that's for sure." Just as he hoped, a grin peeked through, helping to ease her features back to their usual relaxed appearance. Without thinking, he pulled her towards him, kissing her cheek softly. Leaning forward, she buried her face in his shoulder, curling against him like a child.

"I just wish I stopped him sooner. You don't know how scared I was when I came out of here and saw him with his arm around your throat." Her fingers lightly brushed over the slightly faded bruises of his neck.

"Thank you." She murmured into his shoulder, pulling away a moment later when Harry walked back into the office.

* * *

"What was the funnest thing you did while you were a drifter?" Dean asked, lazily running his fingers through Mollie's hair.

"That's a tough one…" she said, readjusting herself on the couch. Leaning back, Dean's arm wrapped around her waist, warm and reassuring. He ended up coming over after their shifts were over, claiming she needed company after a rough day. Now, lounging on the couch in her pajamas with him beside her, she decided he was right.

"I loved being out West. I guess since there's more agriculture, there was always more work. The people were nice, the scenery was beautiful, and…I don't know. You could walk down a road and see a house every ten miles or so it seemed. Life was so different out there." He tucked his chin on her shoulder before he spoke.

"What about those cattle ranchers?"

"If I hadn't become homesick all of a sudden, I'd still be working there. Nice, country gentlemen; respectful; non-judgmental…even though women weren't ranchers, they took me in and taught me the trade. I learned a lot working with them. I made lifelong friends living with them." They were silent for a few minutes, the sound of crickets and katydids humming through the evening air.

"Ever think about being more than friends with them?" he asked.

"Nah. I've never been ready to risk that much again…not until now at least." She murmured, turning to look at him. "Something about you made me change my mind though." She breathed, brushing her fingers through his hair as he pulled her in for a kiss. "What about you?" she asked, stretching out again as she reclined against him.

"What about me?"

"How does a nice guy like you stay single for so long?" Dean was silent for a while, causing Mollie to look up at his face. "I guess I just never found the right girl…" He stared out the open window; judging from his eyes, his thoughts could have been a million miles away.

"Nothing wrong with waiting. I just can't believe a girl hadn't snatched you up before now." She said softly, thinking about how different her life would have been if she'd waited instead of rushing into a wedding she wasn't ready for.

**Now, I have to admit it...I couldn't help it...I HAD to make Percy pee his pants! Lol. Even if he wasn't the one getting grabbed, I needed him to embarrass himself. Haha, what can I say, I dig tormenting the bad guys. ;)**


	9. The Resurrection

**So...in a stroke of brilliance *insert sarcasm here!* I completely forgot about Mr. Jangles' resurrection until...ummm...right before posting this chapter. So I had to put it off while I incorporated the scene. I felt it was just too important to omit! But anyway, that's why this one wasn't cranked out as quickly as the last couple of chapters...that and the one shot that totally engulfed my writing world Saturday night. Lol. Hope all is well and thank you for the wonderful reviews and all the alerts and what not, both for this stories and the others! Feel free to leave questions, comments, concerns, and complaints in a review for me! As a author on here says, "Leave a review and save a unicorn! So if you don't review...you kill a unicorn!" Lol. Hope you enjoy this new chapter and, also, I don't own certain parts of this story (you know, the characters from the movie (DUH!) and the quotes from the script (Double DUH!) and the general plot line (Triple DUH!)) Those belong to people far more brilliant than I. This goes for the whole story, just so you know. ;)**

"It still amazes me that he goes after it every single time." Mollie said, carrying trays of food down to Del and John's cells. She was, of course, referring to Mr. Jangles and his obsessive chasing of the spool. "You'd think he'd get tired of it after a while."

"Uh-uh. Mr. Jangles loves chasin' his spool. Dat's why he's gonna be a circus mouse at Mouseville down in Florida." Del said proudly. Sliding John his food, she came over and watched as the mouse rolled the wood across the floor tirelessly.

"He'll be the best in the show." She said, swallowing the bitter taste the lie left in her throat.

"Dat's right." The Cajun replied, grinning as he flung the spool. Catching a bump in the floor, it went careening through the bars and out into the corridor. True to his reputation, Mr. Jangles took off, scampering after the object of his obsession. "Der he goes!" he said, leaning forward on his cot to keep an eye on his companion.

Watching the creature, Mollie didn't notice Percy's presence until his foot was crushing the mouse, the sickening sound of fragile bones cracking assaulting her ears.

"NO!" Del shrieked, plastering himself against the bars and clawing at the air separating him and Percy. Hearing the shout, Paul, Brutal, Dean, and Harry came running out. Percy looked at Mollie, his face smug.

"I knew I'd get him. It was only a matter of time really." Mollie reared her arm back, ready to deck Percy in the chops. He deserved to have some sense beat into him and she was more than happy to take the job. If Paul hadn't stepped between them and given Percy the chance to strut down the Mile, she would have been unemployed by the end of the week. As he rounded the corner, the deep voice of John Coffey made them turn.

"Give him to me." He said urgently, stretching his arm out. With his size, it looked as if he could reach half way across the corridor. "There might still be time." A look of understanding crossed Paul's face as he glanced between the dead mouse and John.

"What're you doing?" Brutal asked as Paul leaned down and cupped the mouse carcass in his hands. Without a word, he walked over to John's outstretched arm and placed the animal in his hubcap sized hands.

"Dad, what are you doing?" He ignored her as they all watched John. Cupping his own hands, he brought them to his mouth. Like taking a deep drag off a cigarette, his eyes fluttered closed.

Suddenly, it looked as if a spotlight was placed in his hands instead of a mouse carcass; a brilliant light was coming from his cupped hands. It was bright enough to make them all squint, yet they all refused to look away. They stood silently, rooted to the spot by the supernatural act happening in front of them.

And as suddenly as the light appeared, it was extinguished. Pulling his head back, John started hacking like a chicken bone was caught in his throat; deep, throaty coughs billowed out of him like his life depended on it. After a few moments, what looked like a swarm of gnats flew out of his mouth, forming a sickly gray cloud above their heads. Mollie didn't know if it were the creatures or the air itself that was humming softly around them. After a few moments of flight, the black specks disintegrated, blazing white before disappearing completely.

The group of guards and the inmate just stared, their gapes even deeper when John bent over. Opening his hands, Mr. Jangles came running out of his cell. Besides a slight hitch in his step, he was as good as the Mr. Jangles that appeared on the Mile all those weeks ago. Sprinting across the corridor, he leapt through the bars of Del's cell and into the waiting hand of the Cajun.

"What did yah do?" Dean asked breathlessly, staring at John.

"I done helped Del's mouse. He gonna be a circus mouse down in…" John trailed off, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to recall the conversation that had happened minutes before.

"Florida." Mollie said softly, staring in disbelief at Mr. Jangles as Del cried tears of joy. A steady stream of teary French filled the air as a few English thanks were sent across the cell block.

"Boss Percy bad. He mean. He stepped on Del's mouse. I took it back though." He continued, his tone matter-of-fact as he spoke. With the exception of Paul, they were all gaping at each other. How on earth had that just happened? How had John Coffey resurrected a dead mouse?

"Brutal, come with me. Dean, Harry; you boys go back to your cribbage game. Mollie, it's time for you to clock out. Head on home." Paul said, his tone adopting a sort of dreamy tone as he continued down the Mile and through the office.

* * *

Mollie pulled her truck into the prison's parking lot, listening as it gave a pitiful cough before she turned the beast off. Looking in the rearview mirror, she adjusted the pin in her hair, capturing a few stray strands of dark brown hair behind the silver and turquoise trinket she had picked up on an Indian reservation in Arizona.

Her eyes looked glassy, but otherwise, she was holding up well. With a sigh, she opened her truck door and made her way to the entrance of the prison. Clicking down the hallways, she stopped just outside of E Block's doors a few minutes later.

Seeing her hand shake as she reached for the door handle, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. If she could stay strong, this would help Del; if she broke down, who knew how bad it would hurt him. Squaring her shoulders, she pushed the door open and quickly made her way down the hallway and through the office.

"Well I'll be…" Brutal said, catching sight of her from the office desk. She stopped and smiled at him. "Got so used to seeing you in the prison blues that I forgot what you looked like in anything else!" he laughed out. It was true; it felt like it had been ages since she had dressed up. The teal dress accented her tanned skin well; her mother always said it made her eyes pop.

"You ain't the only one." She chuckled out, heading out onto the Mile. The duty desk was empty, which was surprising. They must have been finishing up last minute preparations or something. Picking up a stool, she quietly made her way down the Mile.

"Well hello there sweetheart! Need help takin' that off?" Wild Bill catcalled after her, jerking on the bars as she passed. Ignoring him, she stopped in front of Del's cell, smiling softly as she saw him throwing the spool for Mr. Jangles. Setting the stool down, she perched herself on top of it and watched.

"I thought you didn' work tonight Ms. Edgecomb." Del commented, reaching out and plucking the spool off the floor.

"I don't. I just came to…to talk to you if you want." She said quietly. He turned and smiled sadly at her.

"I always enjoy your company, especially when you look très beau." He tossed the spool again before he spoke. "I still don' know why I did it." He shook his head as Mr. Jangles pushed the spool. "It was like, one minute I be walkin' down the street, n' the next I be doin' such horrible thin's."

Mr. Jangles stared up at Del with bright, oil drop eyes. It was as if the mouse knew what he was talking about; as if he were listening to Del reveal his dark deeds. "I deserve what I gettin', I know dat. But I still afraid of what's comin'." Mollie gazed at Del. She couldn't see how the man sitting in this cell and the man accused of murdering somebody were the same person.

Before she could respond, he looked at her with damp eyes. "If I ever had a daughter, I would have wanted her to be like you Ms. Edgecomb. Your heart is so kind and you be so nice to people who don' deserve it." Mollie rested her hands against the bars.

"Everybody deserves kindness until they prove to me otherwise." Del let out a sour chuckle.

"I be on the Green Mile Ms. Edgecomb. How is dat not proof?" She sighed softly.

"I never met the Del that lived outside this prison. I only met the Del that sits in this cell block. And the man sitting before me deserves all the kindness I can give." He looked up at her, clearly surprised by her answer. Reaching out, he clasped her hand in his; both hands were rough and calloused.

"Vous devez être un ange." He said softly, his eyes swimming in tears. Releasing her hand, he reached down and scooped the spool up to throw again.

"She sho' is." A deep voice rumbled across the Mile. John was watching them from the bars of his cell, his face pressed against them.

"I'm what?" She asked, confused. She rarely understood Del's French phrases that he laced his sentences with; how could John?

"An angel." He said, smiling at her. Before she could ask him how he knew, she was cut off by Wild Bill.

"I think she's a devil; nobody wants an angel in the sack!"

Mollie had never been tempted to kill anybody during her life. Sure, she had the urge to beat Vince senseless the evening she found him with the other woman, though killing him had never crossed her mind. The more time Wharton spent in this blasted cell block, however, the more she wished his D.O.E would be delivered to Cold Mountain Prison. After reading his file and finding out everything he had been caught doing, she would be willing to strap him to Ol' Sparky and say 'Roll on two!' herself if it got him off the Mile and off this earth.

"Mollie?" Looking down the Mile, she saw Dean rounding the corner and heading down the corridor. Sliding off the stool, she picked it up, only to have him take it out of her hands. They walked back down the Mile in silence. Setting the stool behind the duty desk, he led her into the now-empty office. "You alright?" he asked, looking at her face for a hint of the answer.

Swallowing, she nodded. Closing her eyes, she fought off tears that were threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Two strong arms wrapped around her gently, pulling her closer until her cheek rested against the scratchy material of Dean's jacket.

"You know what he did." He said simply.

"I know what he did." She responded. "But we both know that crime was the only bit of bad in Del. It just came out at the wrong moment." Dean released her after a few moments, cupping her chin to get her to look at him.

"Are you staying for the execution?" She wiped at her eyes before nodding. His mouth tugged down at the corner. "I don't know if that's such a—"

"Nothin' you say is going to change my mind Dean Stanton." She said, her voice stubborn as she looked up at him. He softly smiled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I know that. I'm just worried about you."

"I'll be fine." She said, taking a steadying breath as she smoothed wrinkles out of the front of her dress. _I'll be just fine_.

"If you're staying, why don't you go ahead and go sit down? We'll be startin' pretty soon." Looking in the mirror and brushing her fingers through hair, she nodded. It was nearly time.

**A little fun fact! The guy who plays Toot, the old trustee, has an awesome middle and last name! You'll never guess what it is! Never ever never! It's...*drum roll please!*...Dean Stanton. Coolest coincidence ever? I think so. Hahaha. Also, he's from my home state and performed at MY college! (Of course, that was many moons ago, sometime after WWII, but still!) Ran across that as I looked up some quotes on Imdb. It's bizarre, the things you find on the internet. :)**


	10. Echoes of Shrieks

**First off, I want to apologize. I'm the biggest dipstick, I really am. Why did nobody tell me I've been spelling Wild Bill's last name wrong all this time? I swear I checked since I was unsure! Now, as I was doing some stuff for this chapter, I run across his name spelled 'Wharton', not 'Whorton'. I feel so...stupid. But anyway, I just wanted to apologize for that idiotic mistake; you guys deserve better than that. I actually wrote this entire chapter today. I had planned on it taking a week, maybe more, to get through this emotional patch, but once I got rolling, I didn't want to stop. I actually had to take a few intermissions for class (I can't tell you how frustrating it is to be in the middle of writing Dale's execution only to be reminded I have a chem lecture to attend. If only I was one of those people who can skip class without the guilt eating them alive!) I hope I wrote up to, or maybe even exceeding, your expectations. This is an important scene and I want to do it justice and make ol' Steven King proud. Feel free to leave questions, comments, concerns, or complaints in a review; PLEASE let me know if I'm not evoking emotions well or if anything seemed off!**

Dean walked her to the door leading to the back building, a few people already milling around the shed. A man with a pad and pen was reclined in a front row seat, chatting with another man with a camera set up.

_Vultures._

Dean gave her hand a squeeze, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"You're sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah." Mollie murmured, stepping through the same doorway that Del would walk through in less than an hour. With slow, deliberate steps, she walked until she was nearly halfway back, finally sliding down to the end of the row. Folding her hands in her lap, she kept her gaze elevated. Anybody looking at her would never guess her thoughts were a million miles away.

"_Miss! Miss Edgecomb!" Tiny hands prodded Mollie's shoulders, pulling her out of her sleepy stupor. "Miss Edgecomb! You need to get up!" the voice said, now pulling on her arm insistently. Opening her eyes, a set of jet black eyes stared back at her, frantic and terrified. That's when she heard the shouting outside. _

"_Tia, where are your momma and daddy?" Mollie asked sharply, all fatigue gone from her as she jumped off her cot. With a shaky hand, the little girl pointed to the window. With a quick glance, she saw torches. That alone told her what was going on. _

"_Tia, I want you to hide while I go outside. Understood?" The little girl was quivering with fear, but she nodded. Pulling on jeans and boots, Mollie slung her flannel shirt on as she rushed out the doors. "What are you doing!" she shouted, the anger and hostility in her voice bringing the crowd of men up short. _

"_Ma'am?" _

"_Don't give me that! These people have done nothing wrong! RELEASE THEM!" She let her eyes stray to the family, her family of the South. Even through fear, their faces were still as stone; Lauren's jet black hair caught the breeze. The nooses before them fluttered in the wind as well, catching the moonlight in a sickening fashion. _

"_Ahh, but they have. The man claimed this land is his. But he's a negro, he can't own land." _

"_Then let him pack up and move. That does not constitute hanging him and his family!" The man shook his head getting ready to speak to her when she saw it. A man came out of the house carrying a little girl. Tia. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER YOU FILTHY—" _

_A sharp slap across the face cut her off, causing her to whip around. The ass with a smug grin on his face must have been the one to hit her. Rearing back, she swung a strong right hook that connected with his temple. _

_She felt her knuckles split from the impact, but she ignored the pain; instead, she flung punches at whoever tried to stop her. The man holding Tia earned a kick in the groin and black eye before somebody tackled Mollie. Smashing her face in the dirt, the man pinned her arms against her sides as his knee dug into the small of her back. _

"_Feisty little thing, you are." He spit out, his voice seething. "You're lucky you're white, otherwise there'd be a noose for your little neck too." Struggling, tears slid down her face as she watched a man slide nooses over all their heads; Thomas, Lauren, Benjamin, and Tia._

"_NO!" she shrieked a second before the wagon they had been standing on moved. The sound of a neck snapping pierced the air, followed by the gasps of air by the rest of the victims. _

Mollie never knew how long she lay there, but it was nearly morning before she realized she wasn't pinned down anymore.

She remembered the numb feeling her body held as she pulled herself to her feet; the weight of little Tia in her arms when she removed the noose from her neck; the blisters covering her hands after digging four graves.

Her father believed she had never seen death, but the Robinson's were the first and most memorable lives she had seen taken during her continental wonderings. Despite her efforts, Mollie couldn't save the people she cared for; tonight would be no different.

Shaking her head, she was surprised by how many people had come into the shed while her thoughts wandered. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she knew Del would be coming in soon.

"I hope he knows the embers of hell are stoked and waitin' for him!" An older woman shouted out, clutching to the arm of a younger man. Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked down at her hands. Her scarred knuckles were stark white from being clenched.

Maybe this wasn't the best idea.

Before she could think anymore, Percy came striding into the room. His subtly arrogant step took him over to Ol' Sparky, where he stood with his pistol by his side. _Any second now…_ The room fell silent, the occupants sensing the coming arrival of Del. Mollie's hands squeezed together even tighter, trying to hide how badly they had begun to shake.

She heard them coming before she saw them; slow steps, the thud of heavy prison shoes, and the scuff of the soles of cheap shoes on linoleum. The crew appeared, turning sideways to get everybody through the narrow doorway at once. When Del's eyes landed on Percy, he nearly crumpled in Brutal and Paul's arms.

He knew that whoever was standing there would give the word to fry his brains; he knew Percy would relish every second of it too. Paul whispered something to him, the words lost across the distance. The small Cajun straightened slightly, letting the guards lead him to the waiting hands of death.

Ol' Sparky dwarfed Del's frame as he slumped into the chair. His eyes searched the crowd, finally landing on Mollie. Chin quivering, his body seemed limp while they strapped him in. Days before, Toot had sat there, cracking jokes and cackling like a hyena. Now, Del's eyes said one thing:

_Kill me quickly._

After securing him in the chair, Paul, Brutal, and Dean stepped back to their places. Percy gave a final twist of a knob before taking his place out front.

"Roll on one." He said, his voice level. Mollie could tell when Van Hey turned the knob; the lights brightened and a sickening hum filled the air. "Eduard Delacroix, you have been condemned to die by a jury of your peers, sentence imposed by a judge in good standing in this state. Do you have anything to say before the sentence is carried out?" The air seemed to buzz with tension after Percy said his line.

A hum of hatred, anticipation, and downright dirty curiosity buzzed through the air with the electricity; whether the onlookers were aware or not, you couldn't guess. Managing a swallow, Mollie watched as Del's face screwed up.

"I sorry for what I…" His head lowered for a moment, a few cries slipping out before he took a steadying breath. "I sorry for what I do…I'd do anything to take it back but I can't." He squeezed out, looking at the ceiling and floor. "God have mercy on me. Amen." He added.

Mollie echoed his 'amen' softly, not caring if anybody heard. As Harry approached him to put the hood on, she heard Del squeak out, "Don't fo'get about Mouseville." Letting her head drop in her hands, she forced herself to not cry. Not yet. That mouse would have to go though; maybe it would disappear once Del was gone? Mollie was brought out of her thoughts when she heard Percy.

"Hey, there's no such place. That's just a fairy tale these guys told you to keep you quiet." She could imagine the sadistic smile on his face, the glint in his eye as pain and brokenness flowed over the Cajun's face. "Just thought you should know, faggot." Percy said smugly as he slid the black hood over Del's tear streaked face.

Job be damned, she was hurting him tonight. As soon as he was out of the public's eyes, she would beat him until her arms couldn't move if she had the chance. There was no reason for telling Dale that; no reason other than being a cold hearted devil. By now, the cap had been strapped down to Del's head and Percy had stepped back. The sound of muffled French prayers steadily streamed from the inky black hood.

"Eduard Delacroix, electricity shall now be passed through your body until you are dead in accordance with state law. God have mercy on your soul." Percy recited, a thunder clap and flash of lightning punctuating his sentence. Everybody in the room was motionless as the seconds slowly ticked by on the old wall clock. On the top of the hour…_3…2…1…_

"Roll on two!" She could hear Van Hey flip the switch, the hum of electricity like a swarm of bees. Del's body gave a jerk, a strangled cry coming from beneath the hood. It was closely followed by an agonizing shriek. Mollie's heart started pounding as the howls of pain grew in volume and number.

_Something isn't right._

This wasn't supposed to happen; she talked to Dean about what to expect. They were supposed to be quiet, their bodies only jerking slightly during the whole ordeal. Not now. Del was thrashing around and shouting, smoke beginning to rise from his clothes. Paul and Brutal had run to each other, whispering to each other as the crowd grew antsy.

"Is this normal?" a woman asked timidly, shrinking into the side of her husband.

"Oh the smell!" somebody else shouted, pulling out a handkerchief and covering their nose. The smell of burning flesh reached Mollie's nose, turning her stomach. Del was burning to death. As if to confirm her thoughts, the black hood burst into flames, closely followed by the front of his shirt.

Spectators jumped from their seats, knocking over chairs as they rushed to the door to escape the odor and the scene unfolding before them.

"No! Roll! For Christ's sake, ROLL!" she heard her father yell, probably answering a terrified Van Hey through the screen. The Warden must have suggested cutting the power also because she heard Paul shout.

"He's still alive! Do you want us to shut down while he's still alive!" Mollie turned to the wall, refusing to watch; her breath came in ragged bursts as she tried to block out the sounds of the Cajun being burnt to death. It felt like an eternity before the hum of electricity silenced, her father's yell of "Kill it!" signaling the end.

Mollie kept her eyes clamped shut, trying to focus on her fingernails digging into her palms, not the smell of vomit, scorched flesh, and death that hung in the air. She could hear the Warden speaking to the fleeing witnesses and the faint sound of the gurney being moved in the tunnel below.

Without thinking, she rose to her feet and turned to face the room. As expected, Ol' Sparky was empty, its arms outstretched and already prepared for another victim. Striding across the room, she pulled the door back that led to the tunnel where the bodies were taken. She could hear movement down below, but no voices. As she descended the stairs, she heard a scuffle break out.

"Brutal, no!" She recognized her father's voice, the strain sounding like he was trying to hold back a runaway bull. At the bottom of the stairs, she saw him pulling a furious looking Brutal off of a slumped Percy.

"What? He gets away with it?" He yelled at Paul. None of them had noticed her yet, so she used it to her advantage.

With a few quick steps, she reached Percy and grabbed his collar. With her other arm, she smashed her fist against his jaw. Upon the contact, she felt her knuckles split, just like before; however, this time she was surrounded by allies and her Tia was already dead. For a moment, it seemed that everybody was frozen by shock and they allowed her to keep pummeling Percy.

Then, hands wrapped around her waist and drug her back across the stone floor. Mollie could feel the tears sliding down her face now, her raw emotions overpowering the last shreds of self control she had managed to keep during the execution. Fighting against who was holding her, she surged forward, managing one last jab before being lifted off her feet.

"Let me go!" she growled, squirming in attempt to free herself. She was carried up the stairs and into the office before whoever was holding her placed her at the desk chair. As soon as her thighs touched the chair, she pushed away from the desk, fully intending to storm back down and beat Percy some more.

"Mol', sit down." It was Dean. Of course.

"No, I'm going to—"

"Sit down." He said firmly, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her into the chair.

"I just want to…" It felt like a balloon had been deflated inside her. She always felt like it was easier to be mad, enraged, or raising-hell-angry than it was to show sadness. It felt weak to cry; to accept defeat.

"You got enough hits in to get the point across. Anymore and I guarantee you'll be fired." Seeing she was about to speak, he interrupted. "It won't change anything. He'll still be dead, no matter what you do."

Mollie turned from the words, biting her lip. Somebody had said the same exact thing with the Robinson's. He gently pulled her hand from her lap, looking at her bleeding knuckles.

"You must have hit him hard, right on the corner of his jaw." Her hand flexed, still sore from the punch. It always hurt like hell after dishing out a blow like that, but it was always well worth the pain. A kiss on the temple made her look up at him. They sat in silence before fat tears rolled out of Mollie's eyes. Crouching down in front of her, Dean pulled her to his chest as she cried.

"He d-didn't deserve to d-die like t-that." She choked out, gripping his jacket like a life preserver.

"I know. Percy'll be gone soon though." The fact should have made her feel better, but it didn't. Things would get better, she knew they would. But tonight was a night of mourning. A night of tears and shouts and sorrow. Tomorrow would be better…but that was tomorrow.


	11. A Ring On Her Finger

**Hullo readers! Tomorrow starts midterms, so I'll be pretty busy until the end of the week. I should actually be doing work right now, but I wanted to get out an update so you wouldn't be without one for so long. :) I've had this part of the story written up for a long time. Essentially, this is what I've been building up to since the first chapter because...well...who doesn't love some heart wrenching drama? Lol. Thanks for the reviews for last chapter (oh, and btw! I fixed my goofs and correctly spelled 'Wharton' and 'Del' in all the other chapters) and for alerts and favorites and what not. Feel free to leave questions, comments, concerns, and complaints in a review, I love hearing feedback from my lovely readers. Hope you enjoy!**

Like she told herself, the days passed and things got better. Del's death still hung in the air, but it wasn't as oppressive as days gone by. The smell had aired out for the most part, thanks to leaving the doors open all the time. By some quirk of fate, things had been quiet on the Mile; even Wild Bill was being silent.

"Hey there good lookin'." Mollie looked up and smiled as Dean came strolling into the office. Giving her a lopsided grin, he perched himself on the edge of the desk.

"Hey." He pulled her hand off the desk and held it in his own.

"Doin' well today?" His tone was light and conversational but she could see the concern in his eyes.

"Yeah. I am now." She gave his hands a soft squeeze. She wasn't afraid to admit that Dean had helped her through all this. The night of Del's execution, he had come over to her house and sat up with her; it was amazing how one summer had made his arms a refuge.

"I work the nightshift tonight. You'll be okay?" Nodding, she released his hand as Brutal walked in. They were still trying to keep their relationship under wraps for the time being, worried how the Warden and her father would react to a workplace relationship. After Brutal passed through, Dean checked his watch.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He said quietly, slipping a kiss on her lips before walking out onto the Mile. With a content sigh, Mollie checked the clock as well; it was time for her to clock out. Collecting her lunch pail and purse, she walked out of E Block and through the main prison building. The late summer sun was warm against her face as she descended the front steps, clouds of dust kicking up as she crossed the dirt lot.

"Excuse me." A voice called out, the tone haughty and arrogant. If Percy had inhabited a female, his voice would have matched this one perfectly. Turning, Mollie spotted a woman standing beside a car, hands on hips and glaring. Her stick straight blonde hair caught the breeze slightly and her rosy red lips were turned down in a scowl.

_What crawled up this girl's knickers and died?_ The woman sauntered up to Mollie, her hips swinging severely.

"You Mollie Edgecomb?" she asked, getting right down to business.

"Yes." she answered, unsure what the woman wanted. Tossing her hair back like a movie star, the woman continued speaking.

"You may not know me, I'm Linda Jones. I hear you're messin' around with Dean Stanton." She wouldn't call it 'messin' around'. Sure, there was the one night when things got out of hand, but other than that, they hadn't done anything worse than a kiss. Linda didn't wait for her to answer. "I just want to tell you to lay off because he's mine."

"What?" Mollie's face screwed up in confusion. Dean was a bachelor, even her father had told her that.

"I'm sayin'," she jabbed her finger into Mollie's shoulder. "That Dean and I are engaged, so keep your hands off of him you filthy tramp."

It took everything Mollie had to not hit the other woman with a right hook. Growing up with several brothers, she never was good at being talked to like that. Usually, if anybody had the nerve to talk that way, they earned a busted lip or a black eye. However, Mollie kept her arms firmly at her side and just stared at Linda. As if to reinforce her point, she waggled her fingers at Mollie, a diamond ring shining from her ring finger.

"You understand?" Linda stood there, hands returning to her hips as she glared at Mollie.

"Sure." She murmured, realization hitting her as Linda walked away. She had been played again. Just when she thought things might be different, it happened. He had used her as nothing more than a toy. A side dish on his plate of pleasure. Everything he told her had been nothing more than petty lies. Dean was just as much a cheater and a liar as Vince.

Closing her eyes, she grit her teeth and swallowed. She wouldn't allow herself to cry in the parking lot of the prison.

"Damn…" she muttered as she hurried off to her truck. Shoving the keys into the ignition, she turned them. She was answered with a strangled cough from the engine before her truck fell silent again.

"Damn!" She shouted this time, frustration causing tears to stream down her face.

Forcing the door open and kicking off her heels, she took off running. She didn't care that her hair came undone and was streaming behind her in a tangled mess. She didn't care that her long strides split the seam of her skirt halfway up her leg. Only one thought crossed her mind as she sprinted across the road and into the woods, leaves and soft earth cushioning her feet: _I'm such an idiot._

* * *

If Dean had been scheduled to work the next day, Mollie would have called in sick. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to think about him. Mollie did cell checks, thankful that Wild Bill was asleep. She felt so frazzled, she probably would have pulled a Percy if he had said anything and broke something. Turning towards John's cell, she was surprised to see him standing at the bars.

"You hurtin' Ms. Edgecomb." It wasn't a question. Looking over her shoulder, she made sure nobody was at the desk at the moment.

"Yes John, I am."

"Your eyes, they so sad. They don't sparkle like they usually do." She sighed softly. If John had noticed, it was likely everybody else would too.

"Just a bad day John, nothing to worry yourself about." He shuffled slightly before speaking.

"I don't want you to leave here Ms. Edgecomb." Mollie looked up at him, startled. She had just told the Warden she wanted out soon. After hearing about Dean and that woman, she suddenly couldn't stand the thought of staying here any longer. Her hometown felt confining now, not comforting.

"What makes you think I'm leaving the Mile, John?" His sad eyes looked straight into hers.

"I can feel it. You ain't happy here no more. You gonna leave everybody here." His voice was sad, matching the sorrow in his eyes. "Please don't leave me here." He asked, his deep voice making Mollie wince despite the softness of his tone. He wasn't asking for much; pleading for something as simple as a few more days with Mollie walking up and down the Mile. She didn't blame him. His only company on the Mile besides the guards was Wild Bill. She would have begged for another friendly face too.

"Don't worry John, I'll stay for you." She said quietly, turning her back and walking down the Mile.

* * *

"Two thousand dollars." The man said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice through his teeth. Mollie rubbed the horse's velvety nose as she looked it over. It was beautiful, it's chestnut haunches broad and strong as the sun brought out blonde undertones in its fur. Running her fingers through the dark brown mane, she let her fingers trail over a muscular shoulder before speaking.

"I'm afraid I can't go over fifteen-hundred." It was a lie, of course. Between the money she had saved up as a drifter and the money she had earned on the Mile, she could have bought the horse for the original price. Her father had always told her to bargain though, even if you can pay the asking price. The man's eyes got big as he barked a laugh.

"Ma'am, this is a good horse!"

"That's all fine and dandy, but sir, I'm a single woman. How do you expect me to scrape up that much money?" The man's eyes softened slightly at this and Mollie couldn't help but think it: _Sucker._ He spat another time before he spoke.

"Tell you what, I'll sell her to you for fifteen hundred, but keep it quiet. I can't have ever' man in the county coming out to try to get a good horse for cheap." Grinning, she scratched behind the mare's ears before opening her purse. Counting out bills, she handed him fifteen hundred dollars and pulled a halter from her bag's depths.

"If I didn't know better, I think you just conned me ma'am." He said, watching her as she slid the straps over the horse's head.

"Wouldn't dream up of it sir." She said shortly, leading the horse down his drive and towards her house.

**DUH DUH DUH! And the plot thickens! **


	12. What Lottery From Hell Did I Win?

**Spring Break is here!...well, actually, no. Lol. I have a lecture and an application to turn in tomorrow, then I'm free from the clutches of college for a week! :) This chapter was birthed during procrastination and breaks this week. Warning: it's moody and a cliffy. Just want to thank everybody for the reviews, alerts, and favorites, not just for this fic, but for my others as well. As always, feel free to leave me a review with questions, comments, concerns, complaints or any ideas you might have for this story! I actually took something somebody said in a review and plan on putting it in here! I'll totally put them in the spotlight when that chapter gets posted. :) Hope you guys enjoy! **

"I saw you had a horse in your yard. Did you buy one?" Brutal asked, glancing at her before his eyes returned to the road. The morning sun was glaring through the windshield at them as he drove to the prison.

"Yeah, I bought it yesterday." Mollie kept her eyes focused on the passing landscape, resisting the urge to rest her forehead against the clean glass. Her still nameless chestnut mare was tethered in her front yard when Brutal came by to pick her up on his way to work.

"Miss ridin' out West?" he asked, chuckling.

"Yeah, something like that." The new horse was actually her ticket out of this town. It was old fashioned, but she was going to give up the rickety old truck and depend on a horse to get herself around once she left town. Mollie set her jaw as Brutal pulled into the prison parking lot. "Thanks for the ride Brutal. I knew the old beast was going to die, but I didn't think it would be this soon." Her cheerful tone was forced, but he didn't seem to notice. He waved off her thanks as he cut the engine.

"No need to thank me; I know you'd do the same for me if I needed it." Walking across the parking lot, she tried to set her mind for the day. She knew it was going to be a horrible day; Dean was working and tensions were probably going to cause an explosion at some point. She was going to try and avoid an altercation and get through the day without a spat, but that didn't seem likely.

She just kept telling herself that she had dealt with this before; she had survived a lying, cheating ass before and she could do it again. Despite the confident pep talk, once she was actually in the prison, she wanted to do nothing more than duck out and run. Sighing, she followed Brutal onto E Block and into the office.

"Morning Mollie." The cheerful voice of Dean was like a razor blade dragging across her nerves. He must not know that Linda was back in town or that she had spilled the beans to Mollie. Gritting her teeth, she spared him a stiff nod as she laid her purse and lunch in its usual place.

Brutal had continued out onto the Mile, talking to Paul in a voice just soft enough to sound like nothing more than a murmur from within the office. Dean remained silent as Mollie kept her back turned, busying herself with meaningless tasks.

"Everything alright?" he asked, his voice tentative. She could tell he had moved from his place beside the desk to a step or two behind her.

"Just _peachy._" Mollie said softly, her voice more venomous than she intended. This was definitely happening sooner than she planned. Grabbing a file folder, she decided she needed to cool her head and "deliver" it somewhere else in the prison. Heading towards the doorway, her path was cut off.

"What's bothering you?" Dean asked, sticking his arm out to obstruct her pathway. Part of her mind told her shove him out of the way. She was strong enough to send him sailing back against the door.

"Nothing." She said, fighting to keep her voice level, crossing her arms as her irritation grew.

"Now Mol', I know you're lying."

"Wish I could say the same." She muttered darkly as she tried to step around him.

"Mollie! Just tell me what's bothering you!" his voice rose slightly, his annoyance getting the best of him; still, it was quiet to avoid drawing Brutal or Paul's attention.

Balling her fists, she told herself to not say anything. To just go with her plan and slip away like a ghost, like a season of the year, like dust on the wind. She didn't want to make a scene anymore than she wanted to be talking to Dean at that moment. The thought of an arrogant scowl and swinging hips made her change her mind however; after all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

"I met somebody the other day." She said, her mock-cheerful voice having a clearly bitter under bite to it. "A Linda Jones stopped me in the parking lot the yesterday." Dean's eyes widened, his face blanching slightly.

"L-Linda?" So he knew her. That no good, dirty, two-timing…

"Yeah, we had a real _swell_ chat." Her voice was losing its bite, her true emotions leaking through. Sarcasm could conceal hurt, but it couldn't get rid of it. The pain had to burn through eventually, usually at the worst possible moment.

"What about?" He barely managed to get the words out; he knew damn well what was talked about.

"She said you were engaged." Mollie's voice betrayed her and shook as she said it. Her arms were firm against her side, her clenched fists shaking slightly. Dean looked down, his face falling shamefully.

"We were…are...It's—"

"Don't you dare say complicated."She hissed at him, her hand rising to point an accusing finger at him. He flinched slightly at the motion as if she were going to assault him with her index finger. "Either you're engaged or you're not." He rubbed his temples before speaking.

"We were engaged last winter. The wedding was set for March, but we had a fight. We decided to put off things until we could decide what to do." Mollie's chin shook slightly as she fought to keep from crying. Any hopes of the woman lying were swept away as if they were caught in a flood. For a moment, it felt like her knees might give out, but the sense of wrath and anger filling her kept her on her feet. Biting her lip with resolve, she set her jaw firmly; she was not letting him see her shed a tear over this.

"She had the ring." She said through gritted teeth, focusing on the patterns in the grain of the desk.

"I told her to keep it until we talked again. We…we were going to try and work things out." Dean looked up, wishing she would meet his eyes for a second. "She left town and never came back. I figured everything was off." Mollie continued to stare at the desk, rubbing her hands over the worn wood, her grip turning her knuckles white.

"Why did you lie?" Her voice was little more than a whisper, though it sounded dangerous. Though it hurt that he had a fiancé, it hurt just as much that he had lied to her face without batting an eye over it. If he hadn't told the truth about that, how did she know that everything else hadn't been a lie?

Dean opened his mouth, but nothing came out. How was he supposed to answer that? 'I was worried you'd be ticked I had a maybe-ex fiancé that was MIA?' Mollie had opened up to him about her past before they were ever involved, why hadn't he?

"I don't know…" He finally said, his head dropping in defeat. When he looked up, a palm firmly slapped him across the cheek, the hard snap of flesh striking flesh filling the office. Biting back his grimace, he met her eye despite the pain radiating from where she hit him. Judging from that hit, she didn't need a 12-gauge to protect herself.

"I thought you were different, but you're just as bad as Vince. At least he didn't lie about the other woman." She said coldly, storming from the office and out onto the Mile. Dean clenched his fists on his head, threatening to scalp himself it seemed. Slowly, he walked to the storage room, dropping down and sitting on the platform by Ol' Sparky. He sat there, with his face in his hands, cursing himself for his stupidity.

* * *

Brutal and Paul looked up as Mollie stormed out of the office and out onto the Mile. Neither had seen her look so…tortured. She pulled a chair up and sat silently at the desk, biting her lip to keep it from quivering.

"Somethin' goin' on?" Brutal asked hesitantly.

"No, I'm fine." She replied too quickly. It would have been believable if her voice hadn't shaken so much and her eyes weren't screwed up to avoid crying. Before either of them could speak, she grabbed the clipboard off the desk, mumbling something about cell checks. They watched as she slowly made her way down the Mile, tensing when they saw Wild Bill come up to the bars and say something to her. "Go to hell" was Mollie's only response as she continued towards John's cell. Something was definitely bothering her.

"Mollie." Paul said, worried about his daughter. She may be old enough to be out on her own, but he still saw the little girl who tried not to cry when she had come off worse in a fight at school. She turned, still refusing to let tears over her lids. "What's bothering you?"

She wanted to scream that men were pigs and that Dean had broken her heart; that she was just as stupid and naïve as the 19-year old she was when she left this town; that love was nothing but a load of crap. Her hand hurt like hell and it took every ounce of energy to not hurl that stupid clipboard and cry.

"I think it's time for me to move on. I already talked to the Warden about it, and I'm done tomorrow." Paul and Brutal's faces filled with shock at the mention of her resignation.

"Where'd he reassign you?" Brutal asked, leaning back in his chair slightly.

"Nowhere. I don't want to work here anymore." That's when it hit Paul. When she said 'move on', she meant move on out of town. She was leaving again, becoming a drifter. _She couldn't get far though_, he thought. _That ol' truck had finally died on her._ Little did he know, her new ride was tethered in her yard eating grass.

"Prison work ain't for everybody Mollie. I'm sure we can find another job somewhere else in town." He said, hoping he was barking up the wrong tree with his thoughts of her leaving.

"No." She said firmly. "I'm staying until John's execution, then I'm out of here."

_

* * *

_

I have to go talk to her. Both of them actually.

Dean was dreading the evening. His shift at work felt exceptionally long due to guilty feelings and the cold shoulder he was catching. He already had one woman who would probably be more than happy to beat the life out of him, while another thought they were still happily engaged after a six-month hiatus. He had certainly dug a hole for himself; hopefully he didn't break the shovel in the process.

_What did I do to win this lottery from hell?_

He groaned, pushing the door of E Block open and heading out for the day. He knew exactly what he did; he didn't have the balls to tell Linda 'NO' and he lied to Mollie. Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to form a plan on how to fix this god-awful mess he was in. That took him back to his original thought.

_I have to go talk to her. Both of them. _

Descending the front steps of the prison, he walked towards his car. Occupied by his thoughts, he nearly jumped out of his own skin when somebody spoke to him.

"I was wondering when you'd get off work." Dean whirled around, coming face-to-face with Linda Jones.

**Just a note, the 'lottery from hell' phrase was adopted from a fic title from the X-Men movie section. It's not called that exactly, but it was the inspiration for it. Just thought you should know so, you know, nobody feels tempted to sue. Lol. Nah, I just like giving credit where it's due. Hope you like!**


	13. Getting Burnt

**Hey hey! How's it hangin' readers? Lol. Well, for me, it's SPRING BREAK! So far, I've basically slept and ate. Haha. I'm getting off my butt tomorrow though, got things to do. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's the longest one yet! There's some drama and I brought Jan in for a larger part of this chapter. We haven't heard from mom and I think it's time she had a bit of the spotlight. Also, I want to give credit for a part of this chapter; I'll dish it out at the end to avoid a spoiler. :) As always, thank you for the reviews and feel free to leave questions, comments, concerns, and complaints in a review for me! **

Linda looked just the way she had when she left; stick straight blonde hair, lips painted red, and hands on her hips. A while back, her made-up appearance had caught his eye and made him pursue her. Now, all he wanted were the dirty work shirts and calloused hands of Mollie.

"Why would you wonder that?" he asked, his voice neutral as he leaned against the side of his car. Flipping her hair, she smiled and took a step closer.

"I wanted to see my husband-to-be, of course!" she said, giggling as if that was _so _obvious.

"You can't be serious." The words were out of his mouth before he even thought, though he didn't regret them in the least. Best to get straight to the point about him and her. Linda's grin instantly turned into a scowl that Dean knew all too well. It was amazing how he recognized that better than her smile.

"What's with the attitude?" she asked, her voice as sour as her expression. Her arms crossed across her chest, her hip jutting out to one side. It was unmistakable now: the claws were out and ready to fight. Instead of being intimidated, Dean just said what he felt like saying.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because I was engaged to a woman who I fought with all the time; a woman who up and left one day without saying anything; a woman who shows up nearly six months later acting like she never left!" Irritation was slowly seeping into his tone. He didn't want to fight with Linda; the good Lord knew he had done more than his fair share of that.

"Just a little setback, sweetheart. I'm sure we can pull together a fall wedding in no time." Dean's jaw nearly dropped into the dirt by his feet. She was mental! She couldn't honestly expect him to be okay with that!

"No."

"What do you mean 'No'?" she hissed, her frown deepening.

"I mean, I don't want to get married to you. I've been happier with you gone than any time when we were together." Her expression darkened as she glared at him. He half-expected her to smack him just like Mollie did, giving him a matching bruise on his other cheek.

"Is this about that little slut you work with?" Dean's fingernails dug into his palms as he clenched his hands into fists.

"Don't talk about her." He growled angrily. Shifting her weight, her other hip popped out before speaking.

"I expected better of you Dean. You knew we were engaged. You knew we were trying to work things out. Instead of honoring that commitment, you run off with some…whore. Really!" She was shaking her head, letting out a little exasperated huff as if everything was his fault.

_And she wonders why I don't want to marry her!_ Rubbing his temples, he forced his voice to stay level.

"Linda, I want you to listen closely please." She smiled and looked at him expectantly.

"I. Do. Not. Love. You. When we put off the wedding, I should have broke off the engagement. For that, I will apologize. But I'm not at fault when you disappear and I decide to move on with my life." Linda's brows had disappeared into her bangs as her expression went from neutral to shocked as he spoke. "Right here, right now, I want to break this engagement. That way, you can do what you want and I can do what I want." Her expression became livid. Wrenching the ring off her finger, she turned and hurled it over the fence and into the grass on the side of the road.

"There! Go find it now and give it to that home wrecker you've been screwing!"She shouted, shoving past him.

"HEY!" Dean didn't shout, but his voice was so firm he may as well have. "Mollie isn't a slut. She's not a whore and she's not a home wrecker. She's a good, down-to-earth woman. And I wouldn't dream of giving her the ring from my ex-fiancé…especially one that slept with the shopkeeper's son the week before our wedding." Her face went red before she whirled back around and stormed off.

"This isn't over Dean!" she shouted over her shoulder.

"Like hell it isn't." he muttered, pulling his car door open and dropping into the seat.

* * *

Mollie sat at her kitchen table, regretting her promise to John Coffey. She never should have said that she would stay until after his execution. If she hadn't made that promise, she could be on the road right now, heading out West. That promise meant three more days to sit and stew at the house. Three more days of trying to avoid Dean. The latter made her squirm, a sour taste filling her mouth.

She had plenty to do to keep busy though. She was leaving the house to her parents, allowing them to do what they wished with it. Everything of value inside that wasn't going with her would go to their house. The rusting carcass of the old truck had been moved to her shed and would most likely sit there until her father or brothers wanted to take it in another attempt to fix it.

The clock chimed in the hallway, signaling it was four o' clock. Sighing, she pulled herself to her feet. Mom had invited her over for lunch, saying it was important. Something about her Dad wanting to talk; he was probably trying to convince her to stick around.

_Good luck with that._

Her parents were oblivious to everything that was going on. They didn't know about her and Dean's relationship or the mess that had followed. They probably thought Del's execution got to her or she was getting stir crazy. Hopefully, she could keep it that way at least until she left town.

Grabbing a sundress off the back of the couch, she changed into it quickly. As much as she wanted to stay in her pants and shirt, she needed to keep her parents happy to keep them from asking questions.

* * *

Mollie walked out the door ahead of Jan, carrying a bowl of mashed potatoes. Looking over at the table Paul had set up under the elm tree in the front yard, she nearly choked. Catching sight of Dean, her steps faltered.

_WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?_

"Mollie, keep walking, this dish is hot!" Jan said, trying to nudge her down the steps of the front porch. Stepping out of the way, she simply stared. Was this some sort of twisted joke? The fates had a sick sense of humor, that was for damn sure.

"Sweetheart, aren't you coming?" her mother called, looking at her expectantly. Walking over to the table, she dropped the bowl of mashed potatoes next to the chicken with a distracting _THUD_. Instead of taking her seat, however, she started walking through the yard towards the path that cut through the woods and to her house.

She wasn't sitting at a table with _him. _No matter how much she wanted to keep things quiet, she wasn't pretending like everything was stars and hearts. Plus, who knew how tempted she would be to come across that table and throttle Dean if the wrong thing was said.

"Mollie, where are you going?" Paul called out. Never turning, she strode away, disappearing into the trees. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, watching her as she stormed across the yard and into the trees. The table was silent. Harry and Brutal were watching her departure, both as curious as he was. The only suspicious thing was Dean's sudden interest in his hands sitting in his lap and the blush that had spread across his cheeks and neck.

"You boys go ahead and eat. I'll see what's bothering her." Jan said, getting up from her seat. She thought something had been off about Mollie earlier, but she hadn't brought it up. Paul had said that the last execution hit her hard, so Jan was guessing that was still weighing on her mind. Now, however, it looked as if something else was the cause.

With a sigh, Jan followed the narrow path that winded through the woods. Her daughter had inherited Paul's relaxed yet no-nonsense attitude; seeing her acting like this could only be caused by something serious. Looking ahead, she couldn't see Mollie through the trees. It wouldn't be surprising if she hadn't taken off running as soon as she hit the wood line though.

* * *

"What's her name?" Mollie looked up from the patch of hair she'd been brushing to see her mother walking towards her. She should have known she wouldn't be far behind.

"Solo." She replied, continuing with the strokes as her newest companion chomped on grass.

"Solo?"

"Yeah. Now I can say 'I'm ridin' Solo' and it'll actually be true." Jan chuckled; her daughter's witty sense of humor came out in the most unusual ways. Mollie kept her eyes trained on her job, focusing intently on each motion. When a slightly wrinkled hand reached out and squeezed hers, she didn't look away from the chestnut hair.

"Mollie, what's bothering you? Paul said something happened on the Mile yesterday." She stood in silence, listening to the breeze weave its way through the trees. The leaves let out tiny shrieks, their parched bodies crinkling in the wind. She could feel her emotions welling up, threatening to burst through the flood gates.

"I'm fine." She managed to squeeze out. Hands grabbed her shoulders gently yet firmly and turned her, causing her to face her mother's concerned face.

"You may be a grown woman, but I'm your momma and I don't like seeing my baby like this."

That did it; sobs spilled out of her as she turned and curled against Jan's chest. Comforting arms wrapped around her. One encircled her shoulders tightly while the other rubbed between her shoulder blades, soothing whispers trailing between mother and daugther.

Mollie couldn't help but think of the countless times her mother had held her like this: the day Paul had to shoot their old dog because it got rabies; the evening her brother elbowed her in the face and knocked her two front teeth out; the day before the wedding when she admitted to her second thoughts. It had been a long time since these arms had squeezed her like this, letting her know she was safe.

A few racking sobs later, both women were sitting in the grass. Jan held her daughter close, letting things run their course. Jan knew that whatever was hurting Mollie, she needed to get it out; she needed to stop burying it away to bear on her own. As if sensing her new master's unrest, Solo leaned down and brushed her soft nose against Mollie's shoulder, causing a watery chuckle to slip through her lips.

"Now what's bothering you sweetheart? Even the horse knows something's wrong." Jan asked softly, seeing that Mollie had calmed down slightly.

"Dean Stanton." She cried, burying her face in her mother's shoulder. The older woman let a sad smile cross her lips. She had seen the way Mollie smiled when she talked about him; the way his eyes lit up when she was mentioned. She hadn't said anything, but she had assumed the two were seeing each other.

"What about Dean?" she pressed slightly.

"He's horrible!" Mollie wailed. "He's a dirty liar and a cheater and I never want to see him again!" Jan looked at her, clearly confused. This didn't sound like the Dean Stanton she knew.

"What are you talking about?"

"He's still engaged! He lied to me and said…and said…" Mollie buried her face in her hands, not wanting to share what he said or what they did. "His fiancé came and talked to me the other day." She mumbled through her hands.

"Did you talk to him about it? She could be telling tales, Mollie." Of course, her mother would never jump to the worst; she looked for the best in everybody and this was no exception.

"I did. He admitted to it all!" They sat quietly, the air punctuated by the sounds of Mollie's ragged breath and tears.

"Don't let a man tear you down like this sweetheart. I know it's unfair; you deserve so much better. But I know damn well I raised a daughter who could take anything a man could throw at her." Touching her daughter's cheek, she was happy to see a weak grin break across her features.

"You're so lucky to have Dad." She said softly.

"I know Mollie. I thank God everyday for your father."

"Why couldn't I be like you and find someone like him?" Jan's heart broke at the pain in her voice; the sheer desperation lacing her tone as she spoke.

"I don't know honey. We'll never know." Solo bumped their shoulders again, obviously wanting them to get up. Even if she was a horse, she wasn't stupid; she knew things weren't right.

"I'm leaving again Momma." Mollie said, pulling her knees to her chest as she looked over the field and towards the road. "I can't stay here anymore." A sad sigh slipped through Jan's lips.

"I'll miss you." She said sadly, clasping her daughter's calloused hand in her own soft one. "Just…don't be a stranger. It was wonderful having you here, getting to see you all the time…" They looked out towards the road again.

"I know Momma. I know."

* * *

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" Paul shouted, nearly vaulting himself over the table at Dean. Brutal jumped to his feet and grabbed Paul's shoulders despite the fact that he wanted to beat Dean to a pulp too. Mollie was a good girl; she didn't deserve to be treated like that. Dean, who had tipped his chair backwards when Paul yelled, pulled himself to his feet quickly and tried to explain.

"I swear Paul, I didn't know she was coming back." Seeing the vein throb in Paul's temple and the sheer wrath in his eyes, Dean wondered why he had told him about Mollie and Linda. Moments before, it was something about being honest; now, he was questioning whether he would make it off Paul's property intact.

"So as long as you could keep your fiancé a secret, you weren't going to tell anybody you were using my daughter?" Dean could see Brutal's grip slackening even though Paul was still lurching against him with the same intensity.

"NO! I thought she left me and wasn't coming back. Even though we didn't formally end it, I thought it just…fell apart. I didn't know sh—" Dean was cut short when Paul suddenly broke free of Brutal's hold and tackled him to the ground. The two men rolled around in the yard, Harry and Brutal watching the chaos.

"You reckon we should stop them?" Harry asked quietly, grimacing slightly as Paul landed a solid punch on Dean's jaw.

"Nah, give'em a little longer to get their frustrations out. Better to get this out of their system now." After a few more punches, Brutal stepped forward and hauled Paul to his feet.

"Alright, think you got your point across there, Paul." Breathing heavily, he looked ready to object when Jan walked through the trees. She stopped short when she saw the scene; her husband was dirty, sweaty, and looking like he had rolled around the yard while Dean was sitting up in the grass, his lip split and blood trailing down his cheek from a cut above his brow.

It was easy to guess what had happened while she was gone: The news had spread. Though she didn't say it, Jan was proud of her husband. She was an understanding person, but Dean screwed up. What was the phrase? Play with the fire and you're bound to get burnt.

"Boys, if you'd be so kind as to carry the dishes in a put them on the kitchen counter. Dean, come with me please." Dean groaned quietly; what was this, the seven circles of hell? If he got punched one more time, he'd probably get sent to Briar Ridge for brain damage. Nevertheless, he got to his feet and followed Jan inside.

Leading him upstairs, she sat him on a small stool in front of a vanity in a small bedroom. Opening a cabinet, she took a pitcher of water and filled a washbowl. Taking out a hand towel, she dipped it into the water and turned to him. To his surprise, she started wiping blood off his chin, gently cleaning him up. For a while, they were silent as she worked.

"I would apologize for Paul's behavior, but I'm not particularly sorry about it." She said quietly.

"I never meant for Mollie to get hurt. You have to believe me when I say I had no idea Linda would show up still thinking we were engaged. If I even thought for a minute that this would happen, I never would have let things go as far as they did with Mollie." Her lips pursed slightly as she rung out the towel, the water turning opaque as she did. _How far did things go?_

"It doesn't matter what I believe Dean. It's what Mollie believes. And right now, she believes she was fooled again. You hurt her more than you'll ever know and I'll admit it's hard for me to not beat you like Paul did." The words bit at him, but he took them with a grimace. The effects of the fight were beginning to hit Dean, a headache threatening to split his skull suddenly. With a few more dabs at his brow, she laid the towel down on the vanity again.

"If I were you, I wouldn't press your luck here. Leave and give Paul some time to cool off; he'll be ready to talk after he's had some time to think."

"Thank you ma'am." He said respectfully, turning to walk out the door.

"And Dean?" He stopped and turned to look at her. "Don't stop at my daughter's house on the way home." It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command. He could see the mother bear in Jan; even if she was a kind and gentle woman, she cared about her kids and would do anything to keep them safe.

**Horsesareamazing, your comment about Paul killing Dean when he found out got me thinking. It was the perfect opportunity to beat the crap out of Dean some more (I swear, I'm not enjoying this as much as it sounds. Lol.), and to show that Paul's a loving dad who cares about his daughter. Now what about those brothers...? ;) I just wanted to thank you for this lovely little plot bunny and let you know that you're awesome for it. Thanks! :)**


	14. Why Did You Come Back?

***Yawn* Who knew doing nothing would be so exhausting? Lol. More drama drama drama in this chapter. Just want to thank my reviewers and those who favorited or alerted this story; you peeps are aweeeeeeeeeeesome! :D As always, feel free to leave a review with questions, comments, concerns, and/or complaints! If you have something you want to say, don't be afraid to share it! Hope you enjoy the newest installment of Drifting Through!**

Dean sat on his front porch swing, head in his hands and a cloth full of ice pressed against his temple. Paul's punches were still ringing through his head, even after a couple hours. Caught up in his pain and thoughts, he didn't hear anybody approaching until a horse whinnied. Looking up, the unmistakable figure of Mollie Edgecomb came riding up the drive. Dropping the ice, he staggered off the porch to meet her.

"Mollie, I—"

"You left these at the house." She said stiffly, handing him a shirt and tie. Probably from one of the days he spent renovating her house.

"Oh, thanks." She had already turned around when he looked up again. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the rounded hind end of the chestnut horse she was riding. Suddenly, she whirled around, causing the horse to let out an irritated growl.

"Why? Why did you do all that to me if you had her?" She hadn't planned on talking to Dean, but she couldn't help it. "Why did you fool me into falling in love and then throwing it back in my face?" She was fighting the tears that were coming, sure they would force their way out in a few more sentences.

"Mollie, I didn't know!"

"BULL! You knew!" She allowed the horse to take a few agitated steps towards him, making him feel smaller compared to the enormous animal. "The day Wild Bill grabbed me through the bars, you knew. You said no woman had ever caught your heart! You lied to my face about being engaged! What excuse do you have for that?"

Her eyes were blazing as she stared at him. They both knew there was no acceptable answer to that; he made a dumb ass move and there was nothing he could do to change it. Before he could speak, however, a car pulled onto the drive.

_Please God, don't let that be her._

There was no mistaking it; Dean recognized the car as Linda's. Cutting the engine, Satan's mistress stepped out with a fake smile on her face.

"Hey sweetheart!" Linda called out, waving as she carried a box under the other arm. Dean could see Mollie stiffen from her place in the saddle. Even the horse sensed it; the animal suddenly became unnaturally still in response to the change.

"Mollie, isn't it?" she asked in a cheerful voice. A slight nod answered her. "Good, I was hoping to catch you sometime." Linda responded, digging through the box. "Here's your invitation." She handed a slip of thick paper up to a bewildered Mollie.

"An invitation to what?" Dean asked, craning his neck to look in the box for a clue.

"Your wedding." Mollie answered softly. For a moment, it looked as if she might burst into tears, but she simply stared at the silvery print on the paper. Biting her lip, she took a deep breath. "I'll be out of town that day, I can't make it." Her neutral tone was forced, though Dean could hear the pain beneath it.

"Mollie…" She turned her horse around for the second time, this time trotting away. "Mollie!" Dean took off running after her, his legs no match for the horse. "Mollie, wait!" At the end of the drive, she stopped.

Never looking at him, she said, "What do you want Dean?" Breathing heavily, he tried to catch his breath.

"I'm not…marrying her…I broke things off the other day." Looking at her, he waited.

"How do I know you're telling the truth? You haven't exactly been the image of truth, you know. Besides…we never would have worked." The last statement threw him for a loop.

"What are you talking about?"

"It was stupid for me to even think it would. We don't really know anything about each other and things were being rushed." She didn't meet his eyes when she said this; instead, she messed with the reins resting in her lap. He could tell she was lying. "It's probably for the best that things ended." For a split second, Dean stood in utter disbelief at her words.

"You've got to be joking."

"No, I'm not." She said defiantly, though tears leaked through her voice.

"I don't know anything about you?" His temper flared slightly. He had been prepared to take the heat over lying, not over stupid claims that they wouldn't have lasted. "Well let me tell you what I know! The Mollie Edgecomb I know learned how to drive a stick shift when she was fifteen. She likes strawberry jam more than grape or blackberry. She hasn't cut her hair in three years because she likes the feeling of it catching the wind while she rides. She's reread _The Jungle _so many times I wonder how she isn't a vegetarian yet. She's the kindest woman I've ever met and the toughest one I'll ever meet. Look me in the eye and tell me I don't know you." She stared ahead stubbornly, never even glancing in his direction.

"Your fiancé's waiting." She said tersely, nudging her heels into her horse's ribs and riding off down the road. He wanted to yell for her to come back but he knew it was no use. If she had come at any other time, he may have had a chance. But of course, Linda had to show up at the same time.

Turning, Dean made his way back up the drive slowly, gritting his teeth against his anger. No matter how mad he was or how much he was hating Linda at the moment, he didn't want to do anything stupid like hit her. Only men like Percy or Wild Bill were that low. Looking up, he saw she had settled down on the porch swing.

"Now that she's gone, we can get down to the planning. I was hoping that—"

"Linda." Dean said gently as he sat beside her, thinking hard about what he wanted to say. Turning, he gripped her shoulders and met her gaze. "You don't love me. And I don't love you." He let this sink in, shushing her when she got ready to speak.

"I don't know why you came back, but you don't want to marry me." They sat silently for a moment, her eyes leaving his and looking at the porch. Turning away from him, she wrapped her arms around herself.

"You're right." She said quietly. Letting out a bitter chuckle, she continued. "I never thought you'd guess that, but you're right."

"Then why did you come back?" She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her stick-straight hair.

"Things didn't go the way I planned when I left." Dean let a scoff escape his lips. Had she expected a happily ever after?

"You mean, James dropped you after a while?" To be so different, Mollie and Linda had the same problems; both got with men and were rejected. Linda left the good guy though; Mollie was still searching for him.

Linda secretly ran off with the shopkeeper's son after she and Dean called everything off. She claimed that James loved her more than Dean ever would the day before she left; it looked like James told some tall tales to get Linda in bed. She nodded, wiping at her eyes.

"He dumped me on my ass and I had nowhere else to go. I came back hoping another girl hadn't picked you up yet. I heard a rumor that you and that Mollie girl were together and I panicked…" Dean ran a hand through his hair as he looked out over his yard.

"Linda, you should have just told me that. Making her believe I was using her while I was engaged to you was probably the worst thing you could have done to her."

"And why's that?" she asked, her tone bitter.

"Because she caught her husband cheating on her. I was the first man she got close to in nearly four years and she believes I did her exactly the same way." They sat in silence for a few moments, both caught in their thoughts.

"So we'll never work it out?" she asked hesitantly. Without thinking, Dean shook his head.

"No." He didn't feel the need to elaborate. His feelings about the situation should be crystal clear at this point. She bit her lip, nodding at his answer.

"Okay then…" Standing up, she grabbed the box and tossed them into a garbage can beside the porch. "I'm…" She wrung her hands as she looked everywhere but at him. "I'm sorry." With that, she nearly ran down the drive to her car. As the vehicle revved to life, Dean let his head tip back as he sat in the swing. It looked as if half the problem was solved.


	15. A Beer and Some Conversation

**Hey readers! It's back to school for me, no more break for me. :P Oh well, it has to be done. Just want to thank my usual reviewers for being ever so lovely and awesome. If I could ship ponies or cake or something as awesome as you, I would. :) Not alot of Mollie this chapter; actually, Paul is the main focus. As always, feel free to leave a review with questions, comments, concerns, complaints, or CHAPTER IDEAS. Please notice the emphasis on chapter ideas! Lol. I'm entering 'not prewritten' territory, which means I would love some reader input (though I always enjoy ideas from you guys!) Hope you enjoy this chapter! And don't worry, Mollie will be back on the scene more next chapter!**

"Paul?" Jan peeked around the corner of the wall into the kitchen. Sure enough, her husband was sprawled out in his usual chair. Anytime something bothered him, he parked himself in that chair, turned on the radio, and just stared at the far wall. It didn't matter if it was three in the afternoon or three in the morning; if something was wrong, he was in that chair. He still had dirt smattered on his face and shirt, some of it smeared from sweat that was long gone. Paul spared her a glance before glaring at the wall again.

"How did I not know?" he asked. Jan gazed at Paul; of course, he would blame this on himself. Crossing the kitchen, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let her chin rest on his shoulder.

"Sweetheart, none of us knew. Those two covered their tracks well. They wanted to keep things a secret." She didn't mention the tingle of mother's intuition that made her suspicious earlier in the summer, feeling it was unnecessary.

"But I worked with them. I should have seen that he was still engaged and using our little girl. They must've slipped somewhere, I was just too thick to notice." With a sigh, she silently agreed.

"She ain't so little anymore Paul. She's not the tomboy who chased her brothers through the house; she's a grown woman now." He grimaced. The look of pain on her face played over in his head. When he first saw it on the Mile, he had assumed it was the execution still bothering her. Now the truth was out. They remained silent for a minute before Jan spoke again.

"You know what you have to do."

"No, I don't." Sighing again, she continued.

"You have to talk to Dean." She felt him stiffen beneath her arms, a grumpy growl scratching his throat.

"I want to kill him, not talk to him." Paul muttered. Jan couldn't help but smirk at his reaction. Dean was just lucky that none of their sons were home; she could control one mad Edgecomb, but not an entire family full of them.

"I think you should go talk to him. It might be good for you to hear his side of the story."

"Who cares what his side of the story is? He hurt our daughter!" Paul's voice rose, his fists clenching angrily. Reaching out, she clasped her husband's hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

"He may not be as guilty as we think. Just give him a chance and go talk to him." For a moment, he didn't move. Grumbling, he finally pulled himself to his feet. Hugging him, Jan grinned against his shoulder. "Promise me you won't hurt him."

"I…I promise I'll _try_ not to hurt him." Paul gritted out, letting her kiss his dirty cheek before he headed out the door.

* * *

Still fuming, Paul walked up the stairs of Dean's porch. Really, it was unfair. Jan could get him to do just about anything; she had an inexplicable power over him. He could think of ten thousand other things he'd rather be doing, yet there he was attempting to talk instead of fight.

Rapping his knuckles against the door with more force than necessary, he waited. Moments later, the door opened. For a split second, Paul was tempted to burst through the doorway and finish what he started; however, he promised Jan he would remain as civil as possible.

"Dean." He nodded in greeting, holding down a smirk as the younger man paled.

"Paul." He murmured. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Paul shifted from foot to foot.

"Jan sent me to hear you out." The two men stood in silence, unsure where to begin.

"You want a beer?" Dean asked, turning to head into the kitchen.

"Sure. Couldn't hurt." The sound of a bottle being opened greeted Paul as he stepped into the small kitchen. Sitting down at the kitchen table, he accepted the drink silently. They nursed their beers for a minute before Dean spoke.

"As stupid as it makes me sound, I didn't know."

"Know what?"

"That Linda would come back thinking we were still together. Like I told Jan, if I thought she would come around saying we were still engaged, I never would have let things get as far as they did." A deadly silence settled between them as his words sunk in. Paul's jaw tightened as he reminded himself to not kill Dean.

"How far did things go?" Dean's face went beet red as he looked down at the brown bottle in his hands.

"Further than either of us planned." Paul gritted his teeth.

"You screwed my daughter." It wasn't a question. Taking a deep breath, Dean met Paul's furious gaze. A vein was beginning to throb on his forehead again as he sat there seething.

"I wouldn't say it that way, but yes, I did."

"How would you say it then?" Paul growled, his grip dangerously tight on the glass bottle. If this conversation didn't change pace, he'd be sitting in the cell next to Wild Bill by tomorrow morning.

"I'd call it making love." He answered quietly, letting his eyes drop to look at the table.

"That so?" Paul knew he sounded sarcastic, but he was mainly apprehensive. The answer unnerved him slightly.

"Yeah. It is." Looking back up, he set his beer down. "Listen, Paul. I care about Mollie. I never wanted to do anything to hurt her, but mistakes in the past messed that up. If I could go back, I would have told her about Linda." Paul looked at Dean. Taking a swig of his beer, it was easy to see how torn up he was about this. You couldn't fake remorse like that. As hard as it was to admit it, he believed Dean.

"I still want to kill you, but I believe you." Paul said quietly, which caused Dean to look up hopefully at him. "So how're going to convince Mollie you weren't hiding Linda from her?"

"I don't know." He mumbled, letting his face fall into his hands miserably.

"Get an explanation ready for tomorrow night then." Paul said, leaving the remainder of his beer on the table as he headed towards the front door.

"What for?"

"You and Mollie are going to be alone on the Mile while we take John to the Warden's house." Before Dean could comprehend and form an answer, Paul was out of the house.

* * *

"Hey Mol." Recognizing her father's voice, Mollie didn't bother to turn from the place she was sitting at in the yard. Instead, she threw up a hand in greeting as Solo whinnied at their visitor.

"Hey Dad." When he sat down beside her, she gasped. He looked like he had been rolling around a dirt lot. "What've you been up to?" He gave a sheepish grin as he rubbed a hand through his hair, attempting to wipe some of the dirt off his face.

"Got into a bit of a fight." Her eyes widened, her mouth forming a surprised 'O'.

"With who?" He waved off her question.

"Doesn't matter. What I came to talk about was what was discussed at dinner. You remember what John Coffey did to the mouse?" She was silent as she thought back to the resurrection of Mr. Jangles. How could she forget that?

"Yeah, I do. What about it though?"

"He did the same thing to me; he got rid of my bladder infection. The others and I agreed to get John to try and help Melinda." Mollie frowned at the thought of poor Melinda. Mom had told her it was a tumor the doctors couldn't remove. Supposedly, she was going crazy, cursing like a sailor and flailing around like she was possessed.

"You think Hal will agree and bring her to the Mile?" Paul shook his head at the question, rubbing Solo's nose as she sniffed at his shoulder.

"You know as well as I do that he would never do that."

"Then how are you…" Mollie trailed off as she realized what he was insinuating. "You can't be serious! You aren't actually planning on sneaking John off the Mile are you?"

A small nod made her fall silent as the gravity of the situation crashed down on her. If this plan went wrong, all of them would be going to prison.

"Why are you telling me this? I don't work at the Mile, I can't help."

"With that, you're wrong. There is something you can do for us to help make this work." He paused for a moment, taking a breath to prepare for the explosion that was sure to follow. " I need you to stay behind on the Mile with Dean while we take John."

"HELL NO!" The words seemed to explode from Mollie; she hadn't meant to say it like that, especially since she was talking to her father. If he was shocked, he didn't show it.

"Mollie, for this plan to work, we need everything to be perfect. Dean's story has to be credible. For the story to be credible, we need another witness there." She lowered her head, her eyes mashing shut as she tried not to scream again.

"I can't believe you'd ask me to do that! Let it be anybody else…or I'll come with you guys to Hal's house! Just don't think—"

"I know you don't want to see him again Mol." Paul put a comforting arm on her shoulder and pulled her into his side. "But if we do this, we might save Melinda." She swallowed. Hal and Melinda were old family friends; they had treated her like a daughter before she left. She couldn't take away the only chance to help them. Clinching her fists to keep them from shaking, Mollie nodded.

"I'll do it." If Melinda came out of this alive, putting up with Dean for a few hours would be worth it. Paul kissed her forehead before hugging her.

"You'll be fine sweetheart." He reassured her, releasing her as he got to his feet. "Be on the Mile by nine o' clock tomorrow night. We'll run over the plan one last time before we leave." _If all went as planned, Melinda wouldn't be the only one saved that night._

"Okay Dad. I'll be there." She sighed, flopping back onto the grass as he walked away.

**I can haz review? ;)**


	16. Bourbon Laced Memories

**Hi! I'm *really really* sorry for the long wait! School reared its ugly head and decided to steal away all my time lately. I just want to thank all my lovely reviewers! You all are amazing and make my world brighter with your kind words and musings. This chapter is a little shorter and sort of random, but it feels right to me. Some sorrow and memories for my dears. Hope you guys like it! As always, feel free to leave questions, comments, concerns, complaints, or ideas in a review!**

Mollie laid in the yard until the sun set, finally sitting up when the last rays of light disappeared behind the trees. The night air was warm and turning muggy, signaling a thunderstorm was coming. Sighing, she fought the thoughts that kept threatening to invade her mind.

Standing up suddenly, she padded through the grass and up into the house. Reappearing a minute later with glass and bottle in hand, she settled down on the steps of the porch. A warm breeze swirled around the yard, tossing around Solo's tail and mane, not far from how Mollie's hair was blowing around. It seemed the heat was quieting down even the ever present crickets that usually sung, the air thick with silence. The squeak of a cork being pulled from a bottle punctured the silence like a gunshot, seeming to echo off the woods at the edge of the yard.

Solo watched from her place in the yard, curious to what was happening on the porch. Mollie threw a dull smirk at the horse, raising her full glass to her companion.

"Here's to not remembering." With that, she downed the alcohol, wincing as it raced down her throat and left a burning trail behind. She'd never been that big of a fan of bourbon whiskey, but it would get the job done quickly.

After two more glasses, she grabbed the bottle and stumbled back into the house. Dropping down on the living room sofa, she looked at the amber liquid she had poured in the glass. She couldn't help but let her mind drift back to her first run-in with alcohol. It had been the same exact drink she was nursing now. Letting her gaze slide to the end table, she smiled at the picture of her and her brothers. Things always got crazy with the Edgecomb kids.

"_Mom's going to kill us if she finds out." For a moment, there was silence. _

"_Let's do it!" _

"_Yeah!" Hearing the hushed tones of her brothers, Mollie pushed the shed door open, wanting in on whatever her brothers were planning. They were sitting in the bed of the old pickup like a row of ducks, their heads snapping up at the sound of the door opening. _

"_What d'yah want Mol'?" Neil asked, brushing his hand through his brown, cow-licked hair in an effort to flatten it. _

"_What's Mom going to kill you for?" she asked, strolling slowly towards the rear of the truck. Neil glanced at Peter, who glanced at Charlie; it was clear they were having a silent debate. _

"_Can you keep a secret Sis?" Charlie whispered, those green eyes of his glittering with the promise of mischief. Smirking, she knew she was in. No matter what they were doing, acceptance always began with that sentence. _

"_Sure." She answered, hopping up onto the tailgate beside Neil. _

"_Seriously. This isn't some stupid prank like usual. This is serious business." Peter always looked humorous when he tried to be the adult of the group; he was the spitting image of Paul, though his appearance lacked the authority their father's did. Being the oldest, he tried to be more responsible; truthfully though, he was just as immature as the rest of them. Sparing him a nod, she gave a bored sigh to indicate her impatience. Charlie reached behind his back and pulled out a squat, long-necked bottle, red wax covering the top. He turned it so she could read the label. _

"_Maker's Mark Bourbon Whiskey." She read, tilting her head in confusion. "Where'd you get that?" They grinned between each other deviously. _

"_Remember how Ben went up to Kentucky to see his aunt and uncle?" Charlie asked. Nodding, she waited for them to continue. "This is the stuff that Kentucky's famous for! He managed to slip this out of their house and get it back here without anybody knowing." _

"_Then how did you get it?" _

"_We made a little bet and our dear brother Peter won." A proud blush passed over Peter's face as he grabbed the bottle from his brother. For a moment, they just sat and stared like it was a sacred artifact. The boys had all tried alcohol before, somehow getting their hands on something over the course of their lives. Mollie, however, was still a virgin to alcohol and liquor. _

"_Does it taste good?" Mollie asked, watching as Peter worked to get the wax off the top. Charlie seemed fed up with waiting and pulled out his pocket knife, snatching the bottle from his brother's hands. _

"_Dunno. I just heard that all those people watching the Derby drink this stuff…so it has to be decent." Finally, the sound of a cork being pulled from the mouth of the glass rang through the air. _

"_Who's first?" Charlie asked, holding the bottle as if it were his first born. Neil reached out, only to have his hand swatted away by Peter. _

"_The youngest brother is _not_ going first." He scowled, pulling the bottle from Charlie's hands. They all gathered around in a circle, the bottle being passed around quickly as they took their first gulps. Finally, the cool glass bottle was thrust into Mollie's hands; excitedly lifting it to her lips, she tipped her head back for her first drink of liquor. _

_For a moment, she let the liquid hang in her mouth before swallowing. It felt like somebody had grabbed her throat, trying to choke her. Struggling, she choked down the drink, coughing after it was safe. It felt like she had chugged gasoline and swallowed a lit match while she was at it. Neil, Peter, and Charlie laughed at her reaction, the youngest giving her a hearty clap on the back while she hacked. The contact helped break her out of her spastic coughing fit._

"_All right Sis?" he asked, chuckling before taking another drink. _

"_It's like drinking fire." She said, finally able to take a quivering breath. _

"_Eh, the hard stuff ain't for everybody." Charlie said, grinning at her. Her eyes narrowed, knowing what was coming. _

"_Is that a challenge?" she mock growled, squaring her shoulders. "I was hoping you'd think so." He answered, smirking. _

That night was still hairy in her memory. Mollie's amateur status worked against her in their drinking games and resulted in her puking behind the shed more than once that evening. Peter ended up carrying her back into the house later; Neil and Charlie supporting each other as they stumbled up the stairs behind them. Somehow, they had kept the fact that they were drunk off their asses secret from their parents, even with the hangovers they were fighting during church the next day.

Mollie smiled at the memory. That was right before Peter went to college, leaving a trio of Edgecomb kids to wreak havoc around the house. Charlie graduated from high school a year later, leaving to work down on the coast. Neil followed a year later, heading off to a university over in Alabama. That left Mollie, who was married less than two years later.

"If only life was as simple as my first drinking game…" she murmured, draining the remainder of her glass, still grimacing at the heat. Sadly, this round of Maker's Mark wasn't as joyous or laughable as her first.

Maybe it was the fact that she was alone. Maybe it was because she wasn't passing the bottle between the best friends she had ever had. Maybe the lack of drinking songs being bellowed in Charlie's deep bass voice was why she was frowning. Taking another gulp, she tried to bury her true thought:

Maybe she still loved Dean.

**A/N: I just want to ask: Could you tell that I've never drank? Lol. As I wrote the memory, I just wrote what I felt, then went back and was like, "What the crap is it with me and bourbon? I've never drank it and it's been in three of four of my fics on here!" Bahaha. So if there are some mistakes regarding tastes, sensations, etc., I apologize. I haven't taken the leap into alcohol consumption since I'm underage. Btw, many of you may be asking why I chose Maker's Mark. That's easy! I'm a home-grown, proud Kentuckian! :) **


	17. Wearing Masks

**Groan...so...I'm frustrated. I've hit a patch in school where I don't have a lot of time to write (I've been spending a crap ton of time in the library...which is where I'm headed after posting this chapter) and when I do get the chance, I'm having writer's block. No lie, it's taken me about a week or more to write this...and it's short. I'm apologizing in advance because I feel like it's not up to par with what I usually aim to write. Hopefully I can bust down the barrier soon! Anyway, just wanted to thank everybody for their reviews, alerts, and favorites; they really help! You guys are great! As always, feel free to leave a review with questions, comments, concerns, complaints, or plot ideas. I love getting reader input! Without further adieu, Chapter 17. **

Tethering Solo to a long forgotten post in the prison parking lot, Mollie slowly made her way towards the entrance. It was as if her body was battling itself; part of it was eager to see if John could help Melinda while the other part dreaded time alone with Dean. An involuntary grimace crossed her face at the thought as she pushed through the door and walked down the hallway. It was crazy how somebody could heal her, only to have them rip the scars open once again.

_Just one more day._ She could get through one more day. _Then I'm free. _

Before she knew it, she had arrived at the door leading onto E Block. Giving it a few harsh raps, she heard hurried footsteps and a key grinding in the lock.

"You're late." Her father growled, pulling her inside quickly before relocking the door.

"I'm sorry…" Mollie muttered. She thought she had been on time, but apparently she wasn't following Edgecomb time. Following his quick steps down the short hall and through the office, they emerged to see their co-conspirators milling around the desk.

"'Bout time Mollie." Brutal said, his face creased with worry.

"Jesus, I'm not even late!" she spat out sharply, clearly irritated. Normally, she would have brushed off the nagging, but things weren't normal anymore. Looking around, she noticed one usual face was absent. "Where's Percy?" All eyes shifted and looked at the door of the isolation room. It was silent at the moment. "You…You locked him up?" she asked, unable to believe them.

"We had to keep him quiet and out of the equation." Paul said softly.

"Anything else I should know?"

"Wild Bill is drugged; he should sleep like a baby until we get back. We got our stories lined up too, so listen close." By now, they were all moving. Harry was standing by the door, ready to open it. Paul and Brutal were heading down towards John's cell, Dean following behind talking to Mollie.

"We're saying Paul is in the main building, working on reports concerning Del's execution since it was such a foul-up. Harry, Brutal, and Percy are down in the laundry, doing their wash. We're saying John kicked up a fuss and had to be put in the restraint room." They fell silent for a few moments as they unlocked John's cell.

"Is it time to go for the ride?" he asked, sitting in his bunk expectantly. "That's right, time to go for the ride." Brutal answered, motioning for him to come out of his cell. The crew started walking down the corridor, only to be stopped suddenly. Whorton had reached through the bars, latching onto John's beefy forearm. The larger man jerked as if an electric current had passed through him, letting out pained grunt.

"I thought he was drugged?" Mollie whispered worriedly. For a drugged man, Whorton looked too focused.

"You a bad man." John said plainly, his childlike voice sounding scared.

"Bad as you want." Wild Bill retorted, grinning up at him evilly. For a moment, the only movement was the pained flinches of John as they all stood frozen. Finally, Paul stepped forward and batted Wild Bill's hand away, causing it to drop heavily back within the bars. Taking a few woozy steps around his cell and murmuring about white men needing their own electric chair, he collapsed on his bed and snored.

"We better go." Paul said, breaking everybody from their dazes. They continued down the Mile, Harry unlocking the door and holding it open.

"Be careful." Mollie said softly, watching them disappear through the doorway. They were all officially breaking the law and in danger of life in prison.

"We will. See you in a little bit." Paul answered back, bringing up the rear and closing the door.

_And my sentence in hell begins,_ Mollie thought, feeling Dean's gaze on her.

"Mollie—"

"Listen, we don't have to talk or anything. I'll just sit in the office and you can sit out at the duty desk." She cut him off, already heading into the office.

"But I want to talk." Dean said, following her inside.

_Why was she being so damn difficult?_

"Well I don't." Pulling out her copy of _The Jungle_, she slid behind the worn pages as she opened it. Without thinking, Dean grabbed the book from her hands and tossed it on the desk.

"You can't hide behind that book Mol'."

"I'm not hiding, I'm ignoring." Contrary to what he had predicted, her voice was strong, defiant, and cold; not a hint of tears or sadness breaking through. The only sign of emotion on her face was her furrowed brow and a tugging frown on her lips.

"Listen I owe you an–"

"You don't owe me anything." Her voice was stiff, her eyes threatening to burn a hole through him. "What's done is done. After tomorrow night, you won't have to worry about me anymore." Dean was ready to rebuttal, but he faltered.

_What did she mean? _

"What are you talking about?"

"After John's execution, I'm leaving town. I've got to get back to where I belong."

"And where is that exactly?" Dean asked, his voice sounded slightly wounded.

_Here is where she belongs._

"Wherever I want. So out West will be the first stop." Picking up her book, she reopened it and turned to a page in the middle. Her face made her look like she was dealing with an annoying toddler. Or vermin.

"Look, I'm sorry. I should have told you about Linda. But I got things sorted out with her; she didn't want to marry me anyways. She just panicked and started telling lies." He expected some sort of reaction from her for the announcement that he had been innocent and single during everything, but she simply turned a page and continued her reading.

"Aren't you listening?"

"Yes. What do you want me to say? Congrats?" Her voice was indifferent as she spoke.

_No, I want you to drop that stupid book and let me ravish you on this desk! _

That was Dean's first thought, but he knew that wouldn't have happened even if she accepted his apology. He would have accepted a simple 'Okay, I forgive you' though. But no, she was still being the stubborn Mollie Edgecomb he had come to know over the summer.

* * *

_He needs to leave. I can't keep this up much longer._

Being snide and uncaring was hard, especially with how frazzled she felt about everything. Add in the last tendrils of a hangover grasping at her brain and it was all she could do to not force Dean on the desk and sexually harass him. Part of her wanted to forgive him, to accept the fact that crap happens and comes crashing down at the worst moments. She wanted to forgive him and start over.

Another part, a larger and more dominant part, however, was screaming at her that he wasn't any different. He lied. He cheated. If she went back to him, how did she know things wouldn't just repeat themselves? How did she know he really cared for her and really wanted to be together? For all she knew, she would get hurt again. She couldn't deal with that. She'd rather spend the rest of her life alone than go through this again.

_Every man is not going to be like that ass of a husband you had. If I was with you, I would only be with you. Nobody on the side._ She had believed him when he said that and look where it had brought her.

"Aren't you listening?" His voice sounded irritated, poorly masked hurt lacing his tone. She had been, barely. Just some rambling about Linda being the guilty party in all this; she may have had a hand in this, but she wasn't the only guilty participant.

"Yes. What do you want me to say? Congrats?" Her voice came out cold and indifferent, even if she was about to lose it beneath all the layers of toughness she was trying to wear. She could feel the waves of frustration rolling off of him as he tried to form an answer.

"You better do your rounds." She said coldly, never taking her eyes off the novel in her hands. She heard a disappointed sigh flutter through the air before he silently walked out of the office.


	18. Gunshots on the Mile

**For once, I don't have a whole lot to say...I know, shocking, right? A big thank you to my reviewers and those who favorited/alerted/subscribed. You chicas and chicos rock! :) As always, feel free to leave a review with questions, comments, concerns, complaints, or ideas. Hope you guys enjoy this next chapter! **

_Go back in there. Just go in there. _

Dean had felt tempted to bang his head off the old wooden duty desk for the past hour. A deadly silence had settled over the Mile, occasionally broken up by Whorton snoring or Mollie turning a page of her book. Letting out a soft groan, he rested his head in his hands as he tried to think.

_Just go in there._ _Just go in there. Just go…_

Standing up, he crossed the small amount of floor and looked through the office door. Mollie was sitting there, staring blankly at her book; she hadn't heard him move.

"You need something else to do, that's obviously not entertaining you." Dean said softly, causing her head to snap up from her daze.

"What'd you have in mind?" Without warning, Dean was across the small office, pinning her down on the desk.

"How about this? He asked, chuckling into her neck. To his surprise, her legs wrapped around his waist. He could feel her smile against the top of his head.

"I thought you'd never offer." Just as he leaned up to kiss her, a voice rang through his head

"DEAN! WAKE UP!" Opening his eyes, he groaned. None of it had happened. It had all been a dream; a damn good one, but still just a dream. Mollie still looked as mad yet indifferent as earlier. Stretching his back out, he heard muffled steps outside the door.

"They're here, open the door!" she said urgently, giving him a persistent shove to move him. Stumbling from his chair, his grogginess dissipated quickly. Fumbling with his keys, he wrenched the door open as they appeared. Brutal's hulking frame pushed past him first, closely followed by a sagging John and a sweating Paul. Harry brought up the rear before the door shut.

"Where've you guys been? Wild Bill's been acting like he's going to wake up!" Mollie said, her voice worried as she flitted around them. They continued down the Mile, John's exhausted state excruciatingly obvious as they haphazardly made their way down the corridor.

"What happened to him?" Dean asked, following them down to John's cell.

"And what about Mrs. Moores?" It was a relief to hear Mollie's voice filled with something other than the biting chill it had adopted, even if it was now filled with heart-wrenching concern. By then, Paul and Brutal had ducked into John's cell, depositing the inmate on the bed. John simply curled up, wracking coughs echoing off the walls as he turned his back on them. Sliding the door shut, the guards and Mollie faced each other.

"What was it like? Was it a…you know…miracle?" Paul exhaled loudly before speaking.

"It was." Mollie crossed over, flinging her arms around her father's neck as she squealed with happiness.

"She's really okay?" she managed to get out, releasing him.

"Yeah, she is." He looked dazed, like he still couldn't believe what he had seen. Heaving a sigh of relief, her face suddenly became serious.

"What next?" For a moment, they were all silent. Finally, Paul looked over at the isolation room's door.

"Time to try and tie up loose ends." He murmured. Cocking his head, Brutal, Dean, and Harry followed him to the isolation room. How they were going to keep Percy quiet was a mystery to Mollie; knowing him, he'd probably squeal like a hog at the slaughter house as soon as they let him out.

Leaning against the stone wall dividing two of the cells, she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. The tension of the night, as well as the stress of what they just accomplished, had completely wiped her out. An angry yell slipped through the door, only to be cut short by the unmistakable sound of a slap against flesh. She couldn't help the grin that shadowed her face; Percy deserved a good smack. She didn't move until she heard footsteps; opening her eyes, she saw Percy stepping out of the isolation room and smoothing his hair back.

"My things." He demanded, grabbing his work belt from Harry. As he buckled it, a deadly stillness passed over them. Glancing over into the nearest cell, Mollie followed his gaze. John was there, gripping the bars and staring at Percy.

_Oh sh…_

Mollie didn't even have time to finish her thought; John's massive hand shot through the bars and grabbed Percy by the collar, bringing him crashing into the cold steel.

"NO!" she shouted, her voice overpowered as the others started yelling as well. All of them worked to pry John's grip loose, their efforts like spit wads against a tank. Percy had managed to bring his billie club up and give the bars a few pitiful whacks, but soon, the prisoner had enclosed that hand as well. A few slow moments later, John lowered his mouth to Percy's. All of them became still as the tiny bug-like creatures flew from John's mouth. Instead of fluttering into the air and disappearing like before, they jetted down Percy's throat. As soon as the swarm disappeared, John released him and stepped back, collapsing to the floor in exhaustion.

"Percy?" He looked zonked out; like his mind was gone, leaving his body to do whatever it wanted. Brutal reached out a steadying hand as he shuffled back a few steps. His eyes were vacant, never indicating anything was happening behind them.

"I think his cheese done slid off his cracker…" Brutal mumbled softly.

"Percy?" Paul snapped his fingers in front of the younger man's face, trying to break him out of his daze. With the reactions of road kill, Percy turned to face Paul. "You alright?"

Instead of answering, he numbly pushed past Paul. At a snail's pace, Percy started walking down the Mile, never acknowledging any of them.

"Percy?" Mollie asked, taking slow steps to follow him. Dean reached out, grabbing at her wrist to keep her from following. She swatted him away with ease, catching up to Percy as he stopped in front of the cell of the now awake Wild Bill. He did the same robotic turn he had done moments before.

"What'choo lookin' at?" Whorton asked groggily, rubbing his eyes as he sat up further on his cot. Percy simply stared at him like a zombie.

"What'choo lookin' at you limp noodle?" Standing up, Whorton got a tired yet smug smirk on his face

"Want to kiss my ass?" What Whorton said next was lost to Mollie as she watched Percy. As if in slow motion, she watched as he pulled his revolver from his holster, pulling the hammer back and aiming. Without thinking, Mollie lurched forward. Reaching out, she managed to bat his hand to the side as the first shot was fired. A profanity filled yell rang through the air as Wild Bill cowered in the corner of his cell, ducking behind his cot in panic.

Grabbing Percy's wrist, she struggled to get the gun out of his hand. He was firing off rounds randomly, not seeming to care as long as he was emptying his gun. A biting heat shattered against Mollie's shoulder moments before she snapped Percy's wrist, her yell the only one accompanying their injuries. Less than a breath later, four bodies came flying at them, knocking them all to the floor.

"Get the gun!"

"Dear God!"

"Percy!"

"Mollie?" Voices were sounding from all sides as a body smashed her against Percy's limp form. The whole process, from aim to tackle, had only taken a matter of seconds, yet it seemed an eternity to Mollie. The weight disappeared quickly, somebody pulling her off of him as they watched in amazement as he coughed up the same gnat-like creatures that John had when he resurrected Mr. Jangles.

"Ah, no, no, no…" Dean murmured, watching the scene unfold. They sat in silence for a moment, none of them believing what happened. Even Whorton was speechless from the far corner of his cell.

"He shot you." Mollie looked down at her shoulder and the river of blood seeping through her dress, staining the forest green with crimson.

"Ricochet." She muttered softly, beginning to feel light-headed. Taking an unsteady step forward, she crashed down onto floor.

* * *

Mollie woke up slowly, her body aching as something cold was pressed against her forehead. Her eyes felt too heavy to lift, leaving sounds to tell her what was going on. There was a crowd of people just outside of the doors; it sounded as if the door was ajar, the sounds muffled, but not blocked out.

"That still doesn't answer why she was here this late on the Mile!" a voice rose angrily.

"Shouldn't you be more worried about the fact that one guard has mentally broken down and a citizen has been injured?" She recognized Paul's voice at once, his tone strained and angry. Trying once again to move, pain shot like a bolt of lightning through her body.

"Don't move Mol'." A voice said softly, gently pressing her shoulders back into the pillows behind her.

"Daddy…" she groaned, her face puckering up with tears. For a moment, she wasn't full-grown, independent, kick-ass Mollie Edgecomb; she was a little, pigtailed girl who fell off her bike and skinned her knees up.

_Some things just never change._

The voices continued to argue outside, her father not hearing her.

"Dad!" she cried out. The side of the bed slumped down as somebody sat down beside her.

"He's busy right now. I'm here." Dean. "I know you probably don't want me here, but I won't leave you alone." The cold on her forehead was taken off for a moment, soon replaced with a fresh towel. "Paul's trying to get things sorted out. A lot of questions being asked…and Percy's…I don't know. Percy's not right anymore." A slightly calloused hand found her own, squeezing it softly. For a while, they sat silently, bits of the now quiet argument drifting through the door.

"I should have just let Percy shoot him." Mollie mumbled tiredly. "Whorton deserved it."

"But Percy didn't." It depended on who you talked to. If Percy came around from 'mentally breaking down', he would have been on the Mile most likely for killing an inmate in cold blood. For a moment, Mollie entertained the thought of Percy sitting in the very cell that Wild Bill was, serving a sentence until his time to ride the lightning. Oddly, it didn't bring any satisfaction to her.

"By the way, story is Whorton grabbed you and Percy pulled his gun. Whorton was playing chicken, like he did with me and Paul the day he got here; Percy's shot was less than perfect, leaving you with a hole in your shoulder and Whorton messin' his pants." The words flooded over her, slowly being absorbed in her brain.

"Alright, if you say so…" she slurred, pulling her hand free of his. Slowly, she rolled over onto her good shoulder. Exhaustion overtook her and the words she tried to speak as she fell asleep.

_Whatever the story, I'm still leaving._

**I know Brutal doesn't say "This boy's cheese has slid off his cracker", but I love that line and couldn't pass it up. It had to make it in this chapter. Lol. Btw, Horsesareamazing, you wouldn't believe how much I have been thinking about Percy ever since your review asking to change his future. I think I might be onto something, so hopefully you'll be happy! :)**


	19. Comin' to Jesus Over Hot Ham and Cheese

**Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Can you say 'BRAIN BLAST!"? Lol. This chapter literally poured out of me. I freakin' loved writing it. :) So, a few things to say before letting you read (yeah, I'm sure I have that much control over you guys. ;)): First, this story is officially my longest fic. Yes, it passed up _How Cora Met Wade_ in word count a chapter or so ago, but this chapter makes this the fic with the most words _and_ chapters. I so proud. :) Second, a big thanks to my faithful reviewers! You guys rock and I should send you guys cake dancers or something. Third, for the first time ever, I'm dedicating a chapter to somebody. Horsesareamazing: though you may not know it, you've made me look at Percy. Hard. I watched him in the movie, I listened to a couple interviews of the actor playing him, and I sort of had this mini Percy in my head that I had to deal with. Some of my readers might remember me talking about a mini Wade in my head; this is almost exactly the same. Anyway, this sub-plot thing is here on your behalf; without your reviews, Percy's fate would have followed the movie. Hope you like it! Lastly, as always, feel free to leave a review with questions, comments, concerns, complaints, or ideas; this chapter is proof that I look to my readers for guidance! And now...hope you enjoy the next chapter! **

Before the healing of Melinda Moores, Mollie had been entirely prepared to leave home. Everything had been packed, planned, and prepared. Now, however, there was a new list of things to do. She had just finished visiting Melinda and Hal, relieved to see the drastic change in her. The last time Mollie saw her, Mrs. Moores looked like a sickly skeleton, her charming, smooth features lost behind worry lines and strain and pending death. Over lunch, she looked the same way she did before Mollie left home; fresh, happy and young.

Now, riding down the main road out of town, she was on the other big part of her list. Her shoulder smarted with each jostle as Solo trotted down the road, but it was doing surprisingly well. The wound was a through-and-through, the bullet still burrowed in the stone wall of the Mile somewhere. An old pick-up truck puttered past, the old man driving giving her a happy wave. Returning it, she felt the smile slip off her face as she looked towards the horizon.

_There it is_.

Briar Ridge looked like a prison just as much as Cold Mountain did; the wrought iron fencing looked ominous against the bland brick building. Dismounting Solo, Mollie tied her up quickly and made her way up the steps.

A tired looking receptionist sat at a desk, the sound of screams playing a horrible soundtrack for Mollie's entrance.

"Can I help you?" she asked, looking like she wanted to do anything but that.

"Yes, I'm here to visit Percy Wetmore." Opening up some sort of logbook, she shouted through an open door.

"Al! I need a runner, we've got a visitor!" Moments later, a burly man in institutional white appeared in the doorway. His brow was furrowed and looked as if he had a massive underbite, making him look like a caveman. "She's visiting room 219." Al simply nodded, unlocking a door leading to another corridor.

Seeing the jerk of his chin, she followed him down the tiled hall, trotting to keep up with his enormous strides. Even though the walk was short, the blinding hallways were already giving her a headache.

Finally, he stopped outside another door, Mollie nearly smashing into his broad back. Turning the lock, he pushed it open. Stepping inside, Mollie thought the room was empty at first. Letting her eyes sweep over the plain (and overly white) room, she spotted a gowned Percy sitting on a small bed.

"Hello…" she said uncertainly. Percy continued to stare out the window, his eyes harboring the same dull, lifeless gleam they had the night before. His hair was lank and messy around his face, the spitting opposite of its usual greased back appearance. Slowly, Mollie walked across the room and sat on a teetering chair, sighing as she looked at Percy.

_Why did I come here? _

"Percy?" No response.

_May as well keep talking then…_

"Listen, I know you're…lost or something. I'm sorry about that. But I think we can agree that karma came and bit you in the ass last night." She could imagine what the normal Percy would have said, rebuttling with a venomous attitude and threats from the power he was related to. Percy's head lolled over until he could blankly look at her. What was the phrase she had heard before? The lights were on, but nobody was home.

"Ever since I've known you, you've been arrogant and mean, tormenting people who don't deserve it. It was all I could do to not wring your neck most of the time. But I just wanted to say that I don't think you deserved this." Ever since she had woken up, she had thought about this. It surprised her; with the amount of hatred and anger she had against him, she thought she would have been satisfied with a fate as terrible as this one.

"If you ever snap out of it, I'll be glad. Unless you change though, everybody's going to hate you just the same." For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Sighing, she looked out the window at the desolate grounds.

_No wonder these people are nuts…_ A few distant shouts leaked through the doorway, frantic souls trying to escape.

"That's a shame." Mollie's gaze snapped back from the window. Percy was looking at her, his eyes more focused.

"What?" she asked, nearly tipping her chair over as she swiveled around to face him.

"I said that's a shame." He said plainly, acting as if they were sitting at the Mile on any other normal day.

"DOCTOR!" Mollie and Percy simply stared at each other until a slightly frazzled looking man in a white lab coat came in.

"What?" Speechless, she simply pointed between patient and doctor, trying to tell him to speak.

"Mollie, you're acting stupid. Just say something for Pete's sake." Percy said, crossing his arms over the bluish gown. If the doctor's jaw could have hit the yellowed tile floor, it would have. For a moment, he stood gaping at Percy. The latter huffed slightly, looking between the two. "Anybody want to explain what's going on?"

* * *

_What the hell? WHAT THE HELL?_ Mollie still couldn't wrap her head around what had happened. She was still sitting in Percy's hospital room, but he was fully functioning and currently scarfing down a hot ham and cheese sandwich.

"So what happened?" he asked, slightly covering his mouth in attempt to be well-mannered.

"What do you remember?"

"I remember the guards jumping me and throwing me in that damn room with the nut coat on. Then…" he trailed off, swallowing heavily as he tried to remember. "I don't know." Rubbing her neck, she nodded.

"Well," she hesitated. Should she tell about John and the gnat creatures? About Melinda's tumor flying between the three of them?

_No._

"They let you out, hoping you learned your lesson. As I was walking down the Mile, Whorton grabbed me. You were the closest and you pulled your revolver on him. He was bobbin' and weavin' like a boxer and you tried to shoot him and…" Mollie trailed off, painfully shifting her shoulder.

"And what?"

"You shot me." The sandwich slipped from his hands as he stared at her. The look of painful remorse was hard to watch, especially on a face it had most likely never crossed before.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, making Mollie even more suspicious. This wasn't the Percy she knew.

"For what?" He gave her a look that said 'you can't seriously be asking that'.

"For shooting you. I may have been an ass before, but I never wanted you to get hurt like that." For a while, they sat in silence as he picked up his sandwich and continued demolishing it. "What happened next? I mean, I should be able to remember this."

"I don't know, when you saw the blood, you just sort of snapped." Mollie lied, shaking her head as she fabricated his memories. "Like the stress of the job just got to you." Percy shifted his glance towards the window, chewing slowly.

"I never liked the job all that much." He said quietly, never taking his eyes off the barren yard. "Sure, the feeling of power over the prisoners was all good, but truthfully, I was ready to leave."

"It was an intimidating place to work." He nodded in response, setting down the remainder of his sandwich.

"You were wrong though." Mollie's eyes narrowed, unsure what he was talking about.

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like I did deserve this. I may have come off as a cold-hearted son of a bitch, but I'm not really like that. I just act the way I do to try and gain respect. I hate being the small man of the group, so I try to muscle my way to the top. I just got caught up in the act sometimes…" Well, if this wasn't a comin'-to-Jesus talk, Mollie didn't know what was.

"If you didn't act the way you did, I guarantee you would have been treated better on the Mile. They would have liked a nicer Percy."

"Yeah, probably." A clock chimed somewhere down the hall, signaling the passing of yet another hour. The sun had long since set, casting an eerie darkness over the mental institution. Leaning back in her chair, Mollie sighed. She had to get home and change for John's execution and get things prepared for tomorrow. Standing, she smoothed out the wrinkles that had settled on her shirt.

"Where're you goin'?" Percy asked. Now that he was different, he wasn't all that bad. She could see herself being friends with him if she stayed.

"John's execution." She murmured softly, stretching out her back. _John's execution. Then freedom._


	20. Author's Note

Hey guys! Sorry for this long silence. School has been crazy, but I'm out now. Bad news though. Devastating news actually. My friend got a virus on my computer and so far, I've lost everything. All my writing…gone. That means I lost what I had written already for Drifting Through, which isn't that big of a deal considering I had nearly everything uploaded on here. But what makes me want to cry is the fact that I lost four fics-in-process…And quite a few other ideas. I'm in a bit of writing depression at the moment, but I promise within a week or so I'll have an update! Thanks for hanging in there with me, you guys are the greatest!

PC


	21. Just One?

***Grins uncertainly* Long time, no see, right? I'm not entirely sure what to say; I feel like apologizing for disappearing for nearly 2 years. I feel like an entirely different person than the girl who started writing this story. But, when I sat back down and read through with Mollie, I couldn't help but smile. I still love her as much as you guys seem to, and that's what matters most I feel. I want to thank everybody for continuing to read _Drifting Through_, even after it went on hiatus. I also want to thank people for reviewing. That is actually what brought me back! I was cleaning out my email and happened to notice a review for this story. I got on here and read through all the well-wishes and hopes that I would return and finish the story. It was so close to being done, I'm ashamed I couldn't push forward and write the last two chapters before disappearing. Anyway, I'll quit stalling and let you all read what you've been waiting for. We're almost there, thanks for hanging in there! :)**

_John Coffey, you have been condemned to die by a judge in good standing in this state._

The words echoed emptily in Mollie's ears as she wiped the rain from her face and pushed the front door of her house open. Her hair fell lank around her shoulders, sticking to her neck and bare shoulders. Salty tears intermingled with the drops of rain as they slid over her cheeks. It was as if the heavens were protesting John's execution, shrieking in anguish over the loss of his gift.

It was done though. John had been executed even though he was innocent. He was a God-sent miracle, yet he was pinned with a crime so disgustingly horrible. He was filled with unyielding good, yet he suffered a demon's punishment.

His death had been hard on all the workers of the Mile. Mollie's father could barely keep a straight face; he had broken protocol and shook John's hand moments before they rolled on two. Brutal looked as if he was going to bite his bottom lip off the few times he even looked up, fighting the emotions threatening to engulf him. Harry was stony faced, seeming to recede into himself and hide. Dean…Dean had cried the moment John sat in Ol' Sparky. Most people in the audience probably didn't notice it when he wiped his face before standing, but she did. The audience was too focused on the presence of a so-called murder to notice the ordinary man doing work they couldn't fathom.

As soon as the doctor pronounced John dead, Mollie nearly ran out the door. She bumped into countless people who had come to witness the affair, jostling them as she fought for the door. Hearing their protests over the poor weather, she had removed her pumps and went bounding out of E Block. She barely heard the shocked remarks as she bounded down the drive towards the parking lot of the prison. Despite the torrential downpour, she sprinted to Solo and they galloped home as fast as the horse would carry her.

John was dead. She was free.

Peeling off her soaked dress, Mollie moved around on auto-pilot, her brain too jammed to do much more than that. Grabbing an old pair of jeans and work shirt, she dressed quickly. She didn't want to venture out into the monsoon that was pummeling the earth outside, but her desire to escape was stronger than her fear. This place left a sour taste in her mouth; too much death and disappointment for her heart to be content. A little rain never hurt anybody anyway. Without a second glance at her temporary home, Mollie grabbed her satchel and stepped out on the porch. The moon was high in the sky by now, only a faint light visible through the black clouds.

For a moment, she stared out into the night. _This was it. Time to escape. _Dashing out into the downpour, she quickly climbed atop Solo, pulling the brim of her hat low over her eyes as they trotted towards the main road. She had barely made it a quarter of a mile when a car pulled in front of her, braking and causing Solo to rear back in surprise. Jumping out of the vehicle, Dean was quickly soaked to the bone as he approached Mollie, who ignored him by whispering comforting words to Solo and calming her down.

"What are you doing Mollie?" Despite yelling, the wind nearly drowned out his voice.

"I'm leaving! What does it look like?" She shouted back, furious with the delay. Anybody could have stopped her, but it had to be Dean. He was the only person stupid enough to brave the storm and track her down in the mess.

"Please stay." He pled softly. Gritting her teeth, she urged Solo forward, causing Dean to jump out of the way.

"I have to get out of here. I can't stand this place anymore." To her surprise, he remained silent and still. He never tried to grab the reigns or get in her way again. He simply watched her, his prison blues soaking through and becoming nearly black as he gazed at her. After a few trots, Mollie turned Solo around so she could see him.

"That's it?" Mollie shouted over the sound of rain pummeling the dirt road. "All this effort and you're letting me just walk away?" She couldn't decide if that hurt or if the sight of him just made her chest ache. Dean dropped his arms to his sides.

"I'm not here to tie you down Mollie. No matter how much I want you to stay, I can't keep you here if you don't want to be. All I can do is hope there is something that will make you want to stay." Mollie looked down the road towards the western horizon that was masked by inky black storm clouds.

"Give me a reason I should stay." She said, nearly too quiet for Dean to hear over the rain.

"Give me a reason you shouldn't." He retorted, stepping closer to Mollie and Solo. "One good reason and I'll let you trot down the road and I won't try to stop you." They stared hard at each other. This was it, Mollie realized. This was one of those fateful moments, one that decided the path the rest of your life would follow. She knew what she wanted and what she needed. The big question was if she could do what it would take to make those happen.

"Just one?" She asked Dean.

"Just one." He repeated.


	22. Our Ending, Their Beginning

**Hey guys! :) A big thanks to Horsesareamazing, langstonlover, and Avril for the reviews! It warms my heart to know that, after all this time, there are still some people interested in the final chapters of Mollie's tale. I had to let this one stew a little bit before posting. I wasn't satisfied with the ending, so I put it aside and worked feverishly on some other fics (which I'll talk about more at the end!). Tonight, after getting settled back into my apartment before another semester starts, I sat back down to work on it. And let me say, this ending is much better I feel. :) Anywho, here it is, the closing of _Drifting Through_. Hope you like it. :)**

"Percy, honey, can you call the boys in? The food is nearly ready." Jan said, balancing a turkey on a platter as she teetered to the dining room table, avoiding the other women working in the kitchen. Percy glanced up from the newspaper he had been glancing at as he shrugged out of his coat.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Edgecomb." Paul and Brutal exchanged glances. Still, after all this time, it was unusual to have Percy be around them and it be pleasant. After his stay in Briar Ridge, Percy came out a new man. On his way home, he had stopped by the Mile and apologized to all of them. He nearly broke down in tears as he begged for their forgiveness, though none of them thought any lesser of him for it. They were unsure of his intentions at the time, but they extended a bit of forgiveness back then. Now, more than two years later, he was still in their good graces.

"Neil! Pete! Charlie! Ya'll come in, grub's ready!" Percy shouted through the barely opened door to keep the cold out. A muffled shout could be heard, followed by raucous laughter. Smirking, Percy shut the door. "Think this house is big enough for all of them?" Paul chuckled, knowing exactly what he meant. Even as they got older, those Edgecomb boys were wild.

_Not like Wild Bill_, Paul thought, swallowing the sour taste of the memory before it could ruin the Christmas cheer. That was a distant set of memories he had no intention of visiting anytime soon. The door suddenly burst open, three snow covered men cramming into the doorway, bringing laughter and snowflakes with them.

"Guess what we found outside?!" Charlie crowed, popping his hat on a hook by the door. Peter was wrestling with somebody, holding them in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles into their scalp.

"Pete, let Dean go before you rub his brains out onto the floor." Brutal laughed out, pulling himself off the couch. Smirking, Peter let Dean's head free, allowing him to stand up straight. Red faced from the cold and the impromptu wrestling match, he playfully jabbed Peter as soon as he could see straight.

"Wide load coming through!" Neil shouted, causing them all to spread away from the door. With a hand on her elbow and back, Neil helped a very pregnant Mollie up the steps and into the dining room. As soon as the door was shut, Dean wound through the brothers and helped Mollie shrug out of her coat.

"Want out of your boots for dinner?" He asked, pulling her hat off her head and hanging it up beside Charlie's.

"Yes please." She sighed, managing a smile as she waddled towards the living room.

"Looks like you're ready to pop Mol'." Paul laughed out, kissing her forehead before she fell back on the couch with a grunt.

"Baby Stanton better make an appearance soon, we're tired of waiting!" Brutal grinned, leaning against the wall to avoid all the ruckus of the Edgecomb boys being inside, in addition to their wives darting in and out of the kitchen. Dean kneeled down on the floor, unlacing the snow boots. After a few gentle tugs, he laughed and loosened the laces even more.

"We'll be lucky if you can fit them on after dinner, your feet are swelling so much." Mollie smiled down at her husband as he tugged her boots off. For a moment, she just gazed at him as he worked. _Her husband._ He gave her feet a few quick rubs, thinking nobody noticed, but she did.

"Help me up?" She asked, extending her arms out as far as they could reach. Bracing himself, he managed to tug her up off the couch in one go, a feat with how pregnant she was. "Momma!" She called out, waddling around the table and towards the kitchen. Jan's head popped out of the doorway, a smile instantly appearing on her face.

"Sweetheart." She murmured, wiping her hands on her apron before hugging her. Her hands lingered on the sides of her daughter's stomach a few extra moments, hoping to feel a kick.

"After I eat, little Stanton always kicks up a fuss, you'll feel then." She whispered, laying her hand on top of her massive belly, smiling at the excitement in her mother's face.

"Settle on down at the table, it's time to eat!" She shouted over the noise, causing everybody to freeze and dash for the table. An Edgecomb feast wasn't something to be missed and everyone in the house knew it. Settling in, Charlie reached out for a roll first, earning a smack on the hand. His eyes widened in shock, as well as nearly everybody else's, as he looked at Mollie.

"We haven't said grace." She chided softly, wrapping her fingers gently around the hand she had just whacked. Grinning, Charlie grabbed his wife's hand who continued around the table until Dean squeezed her fingers.

"Would you like to say grace?" Paul asked across the table, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the table. Mollie seemed a bit surprised, but bowed her head quickly.

"Heavenly Father, we would like to thank you for this meal you have supplied. Thank you for the company of good friends and family. Thank you for all the blessings of this past year and for giving us a white Christmas. And God, thank you for second chances. For perseverance in the face of adversity." Paul let one eye peek across the table. Mollie's head was tilted towards Dean, a heartwarming smile gracing her face. "Thank you for new life. And thank you for my brother's patience because I know he's itching to dig into Momma's mashed potatoes. And…"

Mollie's voice suddenly halted. They all waited expectantly until they all opened their eyes.

"Dear God, my water just broke! AMEN!" She shouted, pushing away from the table. For a moment, nobody moved out of shock. Then, just as suddenly, the Edgecomb family leaped into action, sending chairs sprawling onto the floor. Though no plan had been discussed, the family moved seamlessly around each other; the brothers who seemed to tussle at every moment were gliding around each other, shrugging into coats and helping their wives as they craned their necks to watch their baby sister. Percy was up in an instant, grabbing Dean and Mollie's coat from the hooks by the door, managing to get to them before the majority of the hustle and bustle started.

"She knows how to say a helluva grace, doesn't she?" He laughed out, helping Dean slide Mollie into her coat as she tried to time her breaths according to Jan's instructions.

"She does, my friend, she sure does." Dean laughed out, the nerves of a new father making him giddy.

**And there you have it! Unless I'm thoroughly convinced to, I'm putting this story to rest here. I loved the idea of leaving it open; some of the best stories I've read don't tie everything up all beautiful and crisp. Rather, they make those few key statements and let the reader run wild however they like. :) Thank you to everybody who took the time to read _Drifting Through_! Even more thanks to the people who took a few moments to drop a review for me (Horsesareamazing, you were the bomb at this!). Though I write for me, it is exhilarating to have a complete stranger say something about my work. **

**Anyway, onto the fics I mentioned earlier! I have been buzzing away with writing lately! I currently have two fics that I'm 'knee-deep-in-progress' with. One is an Avengers story (because I want to lick Jeremy Renner's biceps. Lol.) and the other is a Frozen x Avengers crossover, which I'm immensely stoked about. I have a few other fic ideas floating around my brain, as well as some original stuff, but these two are my babies right now. I'm working hard to get them written and start posting, so be on the lookout if you're interested! Thanks again for reading guys, you're the best! **

**-PuddingCup**


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